Ohana
by Verdreht
Summary: Every summer, Danny's family takes a trip to Oahu to visit his grandmother. This year, after months of Tutu's pestering to finally meet him, Danny decides to bring Isaac along. He thinks it'll be a nice break. They've survived a kanima, hunters, and Alphas all trying to kill them; Danny's family can't be too bad...right? fluff, angst, h/c. Part 5 of my Mahealahey series.
1. Chapter 1

It's almost four-thirty in the morning, and Danny's kind of a nervous wreck.

He shouldn't be. He's done this, like, fifty times in his sixteen years – the Mahealani family semi-annual-holiday-spring-break-just-feel-like-go ing-for-the-hell-of-it trip to Hawaii.

It's the same thing every time: pack the night before, go to bed early, _still_ have an impossible time getting out of bed at four in the morning, finger food breakfast ready on the table when he finally drags himself downstairs, and everybody's out of the house by five to catch their nine o'clock flight to Oahu.

Only, it's different this time, and Danny's kind of stressing out. As proven by the fact that it is, in fact, four in the morning, and he's even got the energy to _be_ a nervous wreck. But he does. He's up, he's already packed, showered, dressed, and he's been kicked out of the kitchen for bugging his mom – he was _trying_ to _help_ – and relegated to sitting in the living room watching the news with Kekipu and checking the window every two freaking seconds for a shape on the porch, and his phone every three for messages.

He's waiting for Isaac.

Just in case he wasn't already being neurotic enough, he's checked his e-mail, too. No dice on the Isaac front there, either, but it's actually a good thing he did: he kinda forgot to tell Jackson he'd be out of touch for a week and a half, and he loves the guy, but _God forbid_ he think Danny's ignoring him.

He also may or may not have sent Isaac a text, asking if he needed a ride, which actually isn't as sad as it sounds. It's storming outside, and Isaac doesn't have a car. He's just being considerate. Or, he's trying to be. Only, Isaac hasn't answered him yet, and he sent it almost ten minutes ago.

Color him paranoid, but he's kind of convinced himself that something's gonna come up, and he's gonna get a text or something saying Isaac can't come after all. Which would really suck, not just because a week and a half without Isaac, while totally bearable because werewolf business aside, they have a strangely healthy relationship, would really, really _blow_. But also because he's worked his ass off to make this happen, and it'd be pretty craptastic if all that was for nothing.

First, he had to convince his parents, although that part wasn't as hard as he was afraid it would be. They weren't really fond of Isaac at first. They didn't say as much, but he figured they'd probably heard on the grapevine about him being a suspect in his father's murder. It probably didn't help that his mom the juvenile court judge was close with the judge that did Isaac's emancipation. He gets the feeling she knows a little bit more about him than he's told her, because the first few times he brought him around back when they were just getting to be friends, he caught her looking at him with this weird mix of sympathy and concern that she usually reserves for cases.

But then he grew on them. Of course he did. He's Isaac. He's sweet, he's always the first one out to get groceries if he's over when Danny's mom goes shopping, he helps clean up after dinner, he brought Danny's homework to him that time he was sick, and he's always, like, _unbelievably_ polite. What's not to like?

So, when he asked if he could bring Isaac to Hawaii, they asked for the usual time to think it over, and ended up getting back to him the next day with an affirmative. Although, he kind of suspects Tutu might've had something to do with it, because she's been asking when she gets to meet him, and she's kind of pushy that way.

With his parents taken care of, Danny ran it by Isaac. He told him it might be nice to just…get away from it all for a little while, especially after the last couple of weeks they've had. After that first full moon, finding out…it's kind of just been crazy, in every possible sense of the word. And he kind of really wants Isaac to meet his family, and Isaac's never been to Hawaii, so it just seemed kind of perfect.

So, he ran it by Isaac, who seemed to like the idea – and okay, maybe the alternative of a week and a half apart _is_ just a little hard to think about, but at least now Danny knows it's mutual – but he had to clear it with Derek.

Luckily, Danny thought ahead. He hadn't heard anything about Alphas in about a week, so he got together with Stiles, and he may or may not have illegally tracked credit cards and accessed traffic and security footage and eventually confirmed that they were in Oregon. Isaac, who had apparently been sitting outside the window for God only knows how long, mentioned that Derek had said something about a new Alpha taking over a pack in Oregon.

It still took a little convincing, but between Danny, Stiles, Isaac, and, strangely, Peter, they managed to talk Derek into giving Isaac the green light.

So, with Derek's begrudging blessing, his parents' go ahead, and all the craptons of paperwork taken care of, everything _should_ be good to go. And Isaac already sent him a text a half hour ago checking to make sure he was still supposed to get to Danny's at four-thirty, so unless things have changed in the past less-than-thirty minutes, he knows he's probably just being nervous about nothing.

But like he said: things have been crazy these last couple weeks.

Which, Danny maintains, has absolutely nothing to do with how high he jumps when Kekipu lets out this wild-sounding howl and takes off from the couch a freaking squirrel just curtsied across the living room. Like he said, he's kind of wound up. And he can't be held responsible for his actions any earlier than seven in the morning, thanks.

For about point-five seconds, Danny's not really sure what's going on, but then Kekipu body slams the front door at about the same time the doorbell rings, and Danny's sleep-deprived brain finally catches up to the rest of the world.

"Danny, can you get the door?" his mom calls from the kitchen, where he's pretty sure everyone else is, too. Now that he thinks about it, he's pretty sure everyone else has already started eating. His mom might've even told him breakfast was ready, it just didn't really register. He's just been chilling in the living room.

He doesn't have to be told twice about the door, though. He thinks he might actually break Kekipu's speed record getting to the door, but it's totally worth it when he opens the door and sees Isaac standing out on his porch, backpack slung over one shoulder and duffel bag slung over the other.

"Morning," he says, maybe just a _little_ bit breathlessly. But he doesn't think it matters, because he's pretty sure Isaac's a little too preoccupied getting gut-checked by seventy-five pounds of deliriously-happy Doberman.

Isaac doesn't even grunt – which, Danny knows from personal experience, a person tends to do when Kekipu high-tens their kidneys – just uses his legs to herd his dog back inside so that Danny can close the door. "Morning."

"You can put your stuff over there," Danny tells him, pointing over to the mound of luggage they've got going in the corner. "We can't load anything up until we get Kip's crate in the back, so we just kind of…gather it."

"You're bringing him to Hawaii?"

Danny nods, even though Isaac's walking over to the luggage mound and has his back to him. "Yeah. We don't always; sometimes, we just board him. But on the longer trips, we like to take him with us. Gives him a chance to see his family, too."

"His family?"

"Well, his mom, anyway." He doesn't know where his littermates went. Some friends of his grandmother's, he thinks. "She's my grandmother's dog. Tutu's had her almost as long as Kalea's been alive." He gets a little pang in his chest as he says it, though, because eleven years is a really long time for a dog, and he knows there's a pretty good chance she's not going to make it to twelve.

He doesn't say anything about it, but then, he doesn't have to. Isaac can tell, and Danny _knows_ he can tell, because his eyebrows kind of furrow and his lips pull into a little bit of a frown. But he doesn't say anything about it, either.

"She must take good care of her," he says instead, and Danny's surprised to hear himself snort.

"She spoils her rotten."

Isaac looks at him skeptically. "You let your puppy take up half your bed."

And Danny can't help himself; he reaches up and ruffles Isaac's rain-dampened hair fondly. "Lucky for you," he says with a cheeky smile.

"I was talking about him," Isaac mutters almost sulkily, jabbing his thumb at Kekipu, except he's smiling, too, so it kind of ruins the effect. Kekipu doesn't help, either, wagging his stumpy little tail so hard at the acknowledgement that his whole butt moves. Isaac must notice, because he drops his hand to scratch Kekipu's head.

Danny rolls his eyes. "You'd think we neglect him when you're not here," he says. Because seriously, Danny's convinced his dog is more desperate for attention than half the high school cheer team. He can't really decide who's worse: his dog for being an incorrigible ham, or Isaac for encouraging it. And he says _Danny _spoils him?

When Isaac raises his eyebrow again, though, and his eyes do that thing where Danny _knows_ he's laughing at him on the inside, Danny decides it's definitely Isaac's fault, and rewards his silent snark with another ruffle of his hair. This one knocks loose a small shower of water droplets, and this time, it's Danny's turn to raise his eyebrow.

"Did you ride your bike all the way here?" He doesn't _think_ he did. The way it's pouring outside, he thinks Isaac would probably be a lot wetter. His hair's pretty soggy, though, and the part of his white long-sleeve t-shirt around the collar that isn't covered up by his leather jacket is wet enough that Danny can almost see skintone, so Danny can't help wondering if maybe he did.

Luckily, Isaac shakes his head. "Derek gave me a ride," he says.

Danny's pretty sure it's just him for a second, but the closer he looks, the more he's pretty sure he's not imagining the sort of far-off, shell-shocked look Isaac gets on his face when he says it. It's not quite horrified, just…thrown.

"Did…something happen?" Danny asks. Honestly, he's not sure he wants to know, but he's kind of embraced the whole 'the more you know' philosophy since that night at the vet's, and he's sticking with it.

For a long, disconcerting moment, Isaac doesn't say anything. But then he looks up from his staring match at the floor, his eyebrows furrowed again, this time more in confusion, and he's got this perplexed-slash-disturbed look on his face that would probably be funny if Danny wasn't kind of worried, too.

But then,

"I think…I think Derek gave me The Talk," Isaac says, and Danny can actually _hear_ the capital letters. He thinks every teenager can.

And okay, yeah, with the new mental image of Derek, the birds, and the bees…it's definitely funny. Awkward as hell, but _funny_.

When he's at least pretty sure he can speak without laughing, Danny asks, "He does know that ship's already _sailed_, right?" Several times. In several places. Sometimes two, three, even four times in a row.

Because yeah, Danny's figured out that the combination of super werewolf stamina and super teenage hormones can be a lot of fun.

And just in case this conversation wasn't already awesome enough, Isaac suddenly flushes this _amazing_ shade of red all the way from his cheeks to the very tips of his ears, at which point Danny says screw it, and just lets the laughter come.

In his defense, he's only human.

"Not that Talk," Isaac says, and he looks like he's trying to be horrified by the idea, but Danny thinks he's getting to him, because he ends up laughing, too. Or, at least, chuckling, and he shakes his head, too, in that 'I'm pretty sure my boyfriend's crazy' kind of way.

"Let me guess: be on your best behavior? No drinking, travel in pairs."

"No wolfing out in public, don't kill anybody," Isaac adds, nodding.

Danny nods, too, casually. "So, the usual then."

"Pretty much."

"Right." He pauses, then, "But just so we're clear, he _didn't_ say anything about, you know…."

Isaac must know, because his lips curl into a smirk and his eyes flash, and he slides his hands around Danny's waist and pulls him close. "You know," he says thoughtfully, his voice low and breath warm against Danny's lips. Their noses are almost brushing, and no matter how many times they do this, Danny still feels his heart race and his head spin. "I don't think it came up."

And then he leans in and seals their lips together, and all that freaking out before couldn't be _farther_ from Danny's mind, because this is happening. Isaac's here, he came, he's coming with Danny to spend a week and a half in freaking Hawaii. He's _meeting _his_ family_.

"Hey, Isaac."

Speaking of family.

Danny pulls back, taking a second to remind himself that he does, in fact, love his sister, despite her craptastic timing and complete and utter disregard for his interpersonal needs, and that he would actually regret it if he killed her.

Besides, he'll admit – to himself – that she's pretty cool about it. He thinks she, like Kekipu, might've adopted Isaac as an honorary family member; she treats him like a second brother sometimes, which is actually totally cool with Danny.

So yeah, he'll let her live a little while longer, anyway. In the meantime, "What's up?"

"Mom said breakfast is ready." Then she looks at Isaac. "And she said if you haven't eaten, to come get some. There's plenty." And then she turns and runs back into the kitchen, Danny assumes to get her breakfast.

Once she's gone, he turns back to Isaac. "Hungry?"

"Always," Isaac answers. Danny knows he's joking, but it's pretty much the truth.

He smiles and laughs. "Oh, Tutu's gonna _love_ you," he says.

And as they head into the kitchen, Isaac mutters something under his breath. Danny's not really sure, but he thinks it sounds a lot like,

"I hope so."


	2. Chapter 2

As planned, they're out of the house and on the road by five.

The ride's a little more cramped than it usually is. They've got the back seat of his dad's Explorer folded down to accommodate the luggage and Kekipu's giant crate, so the three of them – Isaac, Danny, and Kalea – all have to squeeze into the middle row. It's not _too_ tight a fit, he guesses. But his knees are in the back of his dad's seat, and poor Isaac with his crazy long legs won't ask his mom to scoot the seat forward, so he's got his knees on either side of it.

Not that he seems to mind. He's got his arm slid back behind his seat, and even though Danny can't see it, he knows from the fact that Kekipu's not pitching a royal fit like he usually does being crated in the back that Isaac's _probably_ got his fingers through the slats in the crate. When Danny catches his eye over Kalea and flashes him an 'I know what you're doing' smile, Isaac smiles back.

They spend probably _way_ more time than they should trading looks with each other over Kalea's head, in between the short bursts of conversation about their itinerary and how happy Tutu's gonna be to see them and yes, the time honored classic, the _weather_, but it's kind of fun, talking without talking, being close enough to Isaac to be able to do that.

It definitely makes the car ride go faster.

They especially get some good laughs out of Kalea. She passes out before they even hit the 405, and after about ten minutes trying – and failing – to fight sleep, pulling the infamous 'nod and jerk' whenever she dozes off, she eventually just konks out. A turn sends her head lolling over onto Isaac's shoulder, though, and Danny's about to wake her up, but Isaac shakes his head. "She's fine," he mouths, and Danny smiles, because his boyfriend's kind of amazing. And his sister's kind of a bobble head, but that's neither here nor there.

It's about a quarter to six when pull into the parking garage. Kalea's head's made it over to Danny's shoulder, courtesy of a long series of parking garage turns, so he gives it a little shake to wake her up. She's not a morning person, either, so it takes a few seconds of bleary blinking and his mom saying "We're here" for her to kind of catch up with the rest of the world.

By then, the back of the car's opening up, and Isaac's bailed out of the back seat, probably to get some circulation back into his legs. With Kalea back in the world of the living, Danny decides to follow suit, pretty much rolling out of his seat and trying to get his legs to remember how to work. Forty-five minutes in a car, and he's already freaking arthritic. It's gonna be a _fun_ five hours to Hawaii.

They get the back unloaded, and everyone has their suitcases – or, in Isaac's case, his duffel bag – and carry-ons and stuff. The only thing still in the back is Kekipu's crate, complete with one very bored-looking Kekipu.

"Okay, so who wants to go get the cart?" Danny's mom, Leila – Leilana, actually, but Leilani Mahealani is kind of a mouthful, so she goes by Leila – asks, looking pointedly between Danny and his dad, Robert. "Danny? Robbie?"

"I'll get it," Danny volunteers, if not enthusiastically, then at least quickly. Because, hey, in all fairness, his dad drove, did most of the paperwork, and there's about an 84% chance his dad's gonna get irritated before they get to the terminal, so Danny'd kind of like to stave that off as long as possible.

He's about to jog off towards the glass corridor that bridges the garage with the elevator lobby, but he doesn't make it two steps before he hears Kalea say, "Or, you know, _not_," and he turns.

Isaac's standing by the back of the Explorer, holding the crate like, well, like he's trying to act like it's heavy, but Danny knows he might as well be benching a down pillow. Seventy-five pounds is kind of nothing for him, and with his long arms, it's not even that hard for him to get a grip on the awkward carrier. He's even got his duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his backpack on his back.

Freaking _troll_.

"Isaac, honey, isn't that heavy?" Leila asks, but Isaac smiles one of his crooked, sheepish smiles and gives a one-sided shrug.

"I got it, Mrs. Mahealani," he tells her. "Thank you."

And Danny feels a silly little surge of pride, because not only is Isaac quite possibly the most unintentionally-charming, polite teenager _on the freaking planet_, he also managed to pronounce Danny's last name right, and that's only something Isaac's had trouble with since they started dating.

Danny's parents exchange glances, but then Robert shrugs. "You heard the man," he says. "Let's get this show on the road."

His dad locks the car, and with his laptop bag slung over his shoulder and his and Leila's shared suitcase in hand, he starts off towards the terminal. Leila glances back at her kids – Isaac included, on an honorary basis – and rolls her eyes, but she's smiling, and Danny knows, for now at least, everything's good.

Kalea follows her mom, dragging her lime green monstrosity of a suitcase after her, and Danny waits for Isaac to catch up with him before doing the same.

"Let's get this show on the road," Isaac mimics quietly, and Danny rewards his teasing with an elbow to the side. "Ow."

"You know that didn't hurt," Danny says unrepentantly as they make it to the glass walkway. It was a nudge. And even if it'd been more than that, it probably would've hurt Danny _way_ more than it hurt Isaac. "Besides, you deserved it. Smart aleck."

Isaac gives another one-sided shrug and adjusts his hold on the carrier. It's not heavy, but it's an awkward grip, Danny knows.

"You want help with that?"

Isaac gives him a funny look. "I think I can handle it."

"I know you _can_." Danny's seen him punch through a freaking _wall_; he's pretty sure he can handle a dog carrier. "I just feel bad."

"What? Why do you feel bad?" He looks genuinely perturbed, and Danny _really_ shouldn't think that's as cute as it is.

"Down, boy," Danny chuckles, his voice lowered as they reach the elevator lobby at the end of the corridor. There's a couple other people there already, and he figures not _everyone_ needs to hear his and Isaac's conversation. "I just mean that you don't have to play pack mule."

"Danny's right, honey," Leila says. Because even if Danny's trying to keep it an A-B conversation, his mom has this knack for C-ing herself in. She's kind of like a grown-up, slightly-less-hardcore version of Lydia like that.

Isaac looks back at Danny, who just crosses his arms and smiles. He's well aware it's not fair, two against one, but he's strangely okay with that.

"Come on," he says. "Sit him down, and we'll go get one of those carts." They're just off to the other sides of the elevators, lined up like little basket-less buggies. He doesn't give Isaac the chance to argue, either, just waves him along and slips through the small herd of people that just got out of the other elevator.

No more than a second later, Isaac's falling into step beside him, and when they get to the carts, Isaac's looking at him with a look that's equal parts exasperation and fondness. "You're determined not to let me do the good boyfriend thing, aren't you?" he says.

"Hey, that's not true," Danny protests, and when Isaac raises his eyebrow like 'oh really,' he scoffs. "For one thing, everything you _do_ is the good boyfriend thing." And yes, that's cheesy, and yes, he did say it with a completely straight face, even if Isaac's _obviously_ laughing at him on the inside. "And for two, you're making me look bad."

And oh yeah, Isaac's _definitely_ laughing at him; Danny can see it in his eyes. He can't really bring himself to be mad about it, though, especially not as Isaac, leaning back against one of the window rails, reaches out and pulls Danny in by the front of his jacket for a quick, chaste kiss. "You could never look bad," he says when they part, and nope, Danny thinks, _Isaac_ is hands-down the winner of the cheese contest today.

Danny's still smiling like an idiot, though, because cheesy as it is, it was also kind of the perfect thing to say. He's just about to tell him so – or, more likely, tease him about being a cheeseball and kiss him again – when he hears the ding of an elevator and his dad calling his name. "That's our cue," he says, and Isaac lets him go and slides past him to grab a cart. "You sure you don't want me to get it?"

"I can drive a bulldozer," Isaac deadpans. "I think I can handle a luggage cart."

"You're just all sorts of sassy today, aren't you?" But Danny's laughing as they rejoin the rest of the posse. Isaac pauses their little conversation to load up the crate and push it in the elevator, and then joins Danny smushed up in the front corner of the elevator, glancing over at him.

"What can I say? I'm a morning person."

Danny narrows his eyes. "You disgust me," he says, and just to be perfectly sure Isaac knows he's joking, he bumps his shoulder against Isaac's. Isaac pretends to slide a little to the side, but then straightens right back up until their sides are flush again and smiles at him. He's not the only one, either. Danny's smiling, and when he catches his mom looking at them, he sees that she's smiling, too. A real smile, even. The kind that makes her dark eyes shine a little bit and the humble beginnings of crow's feet at the corners of her eyes stand out. Which is kind of cool, because he doesn't know if she's ever smiled like that at any other guy Danny's dated.

But then, Isaac's not any other guy Danny's dated.

Isaac _is_, however, starting to look a little bit uncomfortable. He's shifting his weight between his feet and kind of fidgeting with the sleeve of his leather jacket, and Danny doesn't think it's coincidence that Kekipu starts to get a little restless in his crate. He tries to meet Isaac's eyes, but they're fixed on the little screen showing the floors.

Danny wishes he could say he doesn't know what's going on, but this isn't exactly the first time he's been in an elevator with Isaac, no matter how much Isaac tries to avoid them. And he does. Honestly, he's pretty sure if Danny's family wasn't there, he'd have sprinted down the stairs and met them at the bottom rather than riding in this thing, and honestly, Danny wishes he had, for his sake.

Isaac's kind of got a thing with enclosed spaces. _Which_ is totally understandable, for reasons Danny really, _really_ doesn't like to think about. He still gets a little sick to his stomach when he remembers Isaac telling him about…what happened. The freezer. It wasn't until a couple weeks ago he actually saw the thing – he thinks it's because Isaac would've had a hard time explaining how it got all busted up without the whole 'a werewolf did it' thing – but…_God_, he has nightmares about it sometimes, and it didn't even _happen_ to him.

So yeah, the claustrophobia is totally justified. Even though Isaac refuses to call it that, or even _admit_ that he doesn't like tight spaces. It's justified, and it's pitiful, and it makes Danny's heart ache at the same time his stomach flips, because even though Isaac said he would be fine in an airplane, he also said he hasn't been in one since he was six, so Danny's kind of worried.

He thinks that's totally justified, too.

But Isaac doesn't talk about it, so Danny won't bring it up. Instead, he just slips his hand into Isaac's and gives it a reassuring squeeze, and when Isaac glances over at him, his blue eyes just a little bit wider than usual, Danny smiles at him, and after a second, Isaac smiles back and squeezes Danny's hand softly. He doesn't say anything, but like he said, they've gotten pretty good at talking without talking. The hand, the smile, the look in his eyes, he knows what it means.

_Thank you_.

And Danny just bumps his shoulder again, and when the door opens, he lets Isaac out first. He knows Isaac's doing this for him; he came because Danny asked him to come, because he wanted to spend time with him, because he loves him. So when they step out into the chaos that is Ticketing, and Isaac's eyes get just a little bit wider, Danny sneaks a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you're here," he says. Because even though they can talk without talking, some things just need to be said, and when Isaac's smile lightens a little bit, when it stops looking so forced, he knows maybe _that_ was the perfect thing to say.

"Yeah." Isaac shoulders his duffel, and somehow, in a whole freaking room of people, the looks he gives Danny makes him feel like it's just the two of them. "Me too."


	3. Chapter 3

Security's pretty awful, but then, security's always pretty awful. A lot of frustrated, impatient people all crammed in together, doing mankind's least favorite thing besides paying taxes: waiting in line. Everyone's bumping into each other, getting their toes run over by suitcases, stepping on each others' feet – it's just not fun.

At first, Isaac was kind of worried it would get to Isaac. And it does, sort of. Danny can tell he's anxious: his eyes are shifting constantly around the place, his jaw's clenched, and his nose is doing this funny little flaring thing. But there's also this sort of fascination, and Danny's trying to remember back to a time when coming to an airport was a novel thing instead of just a pain in the ass, and even though he's drawing a blank, he's pretty sure it looks a little something like that. Isaac's uncomfortable, but he's excited, too, and as far as Danny can tell, he's good.

It's actually his dad that Danny's more worried about. After a bit of trouble down at the ticketing booth checking Kekipu in – the person working the counter didn't know what paperwork went where, and there was a _lot_ of paperwork to handle; eventually, a manager was called, and Danny's pretty sure he saw a grown man cry – then walking in and seeing on one of the screens that their flight was delayed by half an hour, then having one of the security check lanes closed because the metal detector was broken or something…he's actually half convinced that if they don't get through this line soon, his dad might _actually_ have an embolism.

On the plus side, he knows for a fact that he, Isaac, and his mom are all three certified in CPR.

He kind of hopes it won't get to that, though. There's just not much he can do about it.

With Isaac, on the other hand, it's easy. He sees him start to really tense up, say after someone bumps into him or, _God_ forbid, bumps into Danny, and he bumps his elbow, maybe leans into him, or once he reaches up and ruffles his hair. It distracts him a little, Danny thinks, gives him something else to think about, usually in the form of retaliation. Which Danny actually doesn't mind, because Isaac's idea of retaliation is usually putting his arms around him and holding him where he can't pester him for a little while, and if maybe he sneaks a few kisses when nobody's looking, Danny's definitely not complaining.

Of course, he might grumble a little bit when Kalea suddenly exclaims, "Oh my God," like the sky just fell or something, and he thinks she must startle Isaac, because he starts towards her – which is cute, because Isaac's kind of crazy protective of her, too – only to realize Danny was, in fact, leaning on him, and stops to catch Danny before he stumbles back into the stanchions.

His parents glance back at them, but they're up at the table now handing the guy at the podium all their papers, so he thinks they only look long enough to make sure no-one's dead or dying, before they turn back to taking care of business.

After Danny's own quick check reveals nothing bleeding, broken, or bruised on his sister's immediate person, his brain goes immediately to, "What did you forget?" And if he says it with a little more exasperation than would seem necessary, it's because it never freaking fails: every time they come to Hawaii, Kalea forgets something.

But she just shakes her head, and there's a smile on her face instead of the usual guilty frown. "I didn't forget anything," she says. "I just noticed something's all."

"What?"

"You two are matching." And when Danny looks at her like she's crazy, Kalea smiles a little wider and points down towards his legs.

He follows her finger down to his pants – his track pants from lacrosse, because next to his pajama pants, they might very well be the most comfortable pants he owns – and for a second, he's confused, until he looks a little to his right and sees another leg clad in the same dark gray polyester with the two white stripes as his own, only it's definitely not his. At which point, it occurs to him that he and Isaac are, in fact, both wearing their lacrosse pants.

Danny's eyes go immediately to the number on Isaac's left thigh, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the 14 printed on it in white. It's just, there was this one time, after one of their impromptu sleepovers, when they went out for a pickup game that morning, it was pointed out that they were actually wearing the wrong…numbered…pants.

That had been a fun conversation.

But nope, they may be wearing the same pants, but at least they're wearing the _right_ ones. Although, now that he thinks about it, he's pretty sure the _Viva La Vida_ t-shirt he's wearing is actually Isaac's. Whoops. Not that Isaac ever seems to mind when Danny nicks his clothes. He actually seems to like it, though whether or not that's a wolf thing, a boyfriend thing, or a both thing, who knows.

"I think it's cute," Leila says, because right, she could be performing brain surgery or something and still be keeping an ear on the conversation. A little bit of airport security's nothing to her superior snooping skills.

"Oh yeah," Kalea says. "You two are _adorable_." She opens her mouth to say something else, but Danny stops her before she can get it out.

"If you start singing 'Sitting in a Tree,' I will actually strangle you. Right here. _In_ the security line." Bravely, Kalea takes in a breath, but Danny raises his eyebrows and points, like 'you really want to test me before eight o'clock in the morning' and she lets it out in a huff, rolling her eyes.

"You're no fun before coffee," she says instead, and he thinks she's about one 'give a fuck' away from sticking her tongue out at him, but then Robert calls her, because it's time for them to start going through the machine – finally – and she trots off.

Danny and Isaac follow at a slightly slower pace, kicking off their sneakers and slinging their respective backpacks up on the x-ray machine before heading for the metal detector. "Well," Danny says more to himself, mostly because these things always make him uncomfortable, and he tends to talk when he's uncomfortable, "she's not wrong."

And then he's through it, and after a second, Isaac is, too. Easy peasy. They stop ahead at the table to put their shoes on, and so his dad can repack his laptop and stuff, and when he finishes, Isaac's waiting for him. They walk side by side, following the rest of the posse towards the escalators, and Danny can practically _hear_ Isaac thinking, _why the heck did we go down the elevator just to go up again?_ What he says, though, is, "I think there's a coffee place in here," as they get to the top of the escalator and step out into the terminal.

"Yeah, there's a Starbucks in the food court, but how did you—" He stops himself when Isaac arches an eyebrow. "Right, stupid question." The nose knows, as the saying goes, even though Danny can't smell anything.

"There are no stupid questions," Isaac says.

"Just sleep-deprived teenagers," Danny finishes. "Speaking of, did you get _any_ sleep last night?" There are shadows under his eyes, and even though they aren't bloodshot, he just _looks_ tired.

Isaac just shrugs. "I figured I'd sleep on the plane."

Which kind of makes Danny wonder if maybe he stayed up all night just so he _could_ sleep on the plane, which is both a little sad and a little relieving, because if Isaac can just sleep through the plane ride, then life'll be good. Danny might just sleep with him.

…that came out wrong.

Although, he thinks sixteen might be a record or something for the mile high club.

Food for thought.

"So, do you think your parents would mind if we headed to the food court?" Isaac asks all of the sudden. "You can get your coffee."

Danny stares at him for a second, and then, "Marry me," he says.

"Please at least wait until you're out of college," Leila calls back over her shoulder teasingly, and Danny blushes.

Isaac just smiles, though, slipping his arm around Danny's shoulders and pulling him in just as a small group of horrific-floral-shirt-wearing tourists go rushing past them at as close to mach speed as their Crocs-n-socks combos will allow. At first, he thinks he was just saving him from the stampede, but he doesn't let go, and Danny doesn't really mind enough to complain. Or, you know, at all, really, because Isaac's warm and the terminal feels about minus-thirty, even with his jacket on.

Then there's Isaac, with the sleeves of his relatively thin t-shirt rolled up, and a quick glance at his arm hanging over Danny's shoulder reveals he doesn't even have the common decency to have chill bumps.

Again, he can't really bring himself to mind.

Instead, he turns his attention to other things. "So, can Isaac and I split off?" he asks, and actually, his need for caffeine doesn't really have anything to do with it. As more people flit by in the terminal, he can feel Isaac getting progressively more tense, and it's a little louder in here with the high ceilings and the massive crowds of people than it was back in security. Also, Danny doesn't need to have Isaac's super-sniffer to know that it smells a little funky in there, and if he can smell it….

There's an upper level, though, and Danny happens to know that right above the Starbucks – which is kind of a suckish Starbucks, if he's being honest, because you can't actually go inside like some of the others in the other terminals – there's a nice little sofa set up in the corner. At least there was the last time Danny was here. And as far as Danny can figure, that should solve most of their problems, because pretty much no one goes up there, it's quieter, and it's right above the Starbucks, so he could never smell anything but coffee. It's kind of the perfect spot.

In the typical fashion, his mom looks at his dad, who looks at his watch, who looks back at Danny. "As long as you're at Gate 24 by eight-thirty, it's fine with me. And keep your phone on."

"He's a teenager, Robbie," Leila says, smiling, "his phone's always on." And Robert smiles, too, even if he rolls his eyes at the same time.

Danny has to say: one of his favorite parts of these vacations is that his parents always seem to get along better.

"Alright, you heard your father. At the terminal by eight-thirty, phone on, stay together. Yes?"

"Yes, Mom," Danny says at the same time Isaac says, "Yes, Ma'am." And then Danny grabs Isaac's hand, the one he's got around his shoulder, and starts to lead him away before his parents can change their minds.

"I'm guessing you've been here a few times."

"Once or twice," Danny replies. He decides to hit the Starbucks up first, because he wasn't actually kidding when he said he needed caffeine. Mercifully, there aren't too many people that seemed to be thinking the same thing; the lines only five, six people long, which is nothing compared to some of the busier hours. He guesses that's the pro to coming in during the freaking twilight hours.

Isaac doesn't actually take his arm back until they get up to the counter, and Danny's a little bit shocked by the sudden temperature change. He's never actually gotten a real measurement, but he's pretty sure werewolves have a resting temp of at least a hundred and one, as compared to the sixty-something of the terminal. He has half a mind to pull Isaac's arm back around his shoulders, except it's time for them to order, and he kind of needs his hands free to get to his wallet.

"What can I get for you?" asks the chipper gentleman behind the counter. Danny can't tell if he has to try that hard to be that pleasant this early, or if, working in a coffee shop, the caffeine's somehow infused in his bloodstream or something.

Either way, he doesn't have too hard a time smiling back. After all, he's heading for Hawaii to see one of his favorite people in the world, standing next to another one of his favorite people in the world, and about to get one of his favorite _things_ in the world. All things considered, life is pretty freaking good right now.

"I'll have Grande Nonfat Caffè Mocha." He should probably be a little bit ashamed by how quickly he rattles off his order, because seriously, he drinks _way_ too many of the things. They're just really good. He also knows exactly how much it costs, and he's about to get the money out, when Isaac steps in front of him.

"We're together," he says. He's talking about the check, Danny thinks, but the barista looks between them, then, and his smile almost reaches his gaged ears.

"And what can I get you?" he asks.

"Chamomile tea."

The barista's smile takes on a little more sympathetic note. "Nervous flier?"

Isaac shrugs. "I just like chamomile."

And Danny just likes hearing him say it. He pronounces it "camo-mile" instead of "camo-mill" like Danny's used to hearing, and when the barista nods and rings them up, he elbows Isaac lightly.

"You're such a Brit at heart," he teases. Isaac just shrugs and hands over the appropriate amount of cash to the barista, and because he's kind of just a perfect human being, he _immediately_ drops his change in the Red Cross change bin by the gift cards.

The barista catches Danny smiling like an idiot and winks at him, before turning back to Isaac and handing him the receipt. "Your orders'll be up in a minute."

Which is their cue to shuffle over to the end of the bar, over by all the ridiculously-priced pastries that they're just hoping you're hungry or rich enough to buy. "You make better scones," Danny remarks idly, leaning back against the counter.

"Don't know about that," Isaac says, "but at least I don't charge…" he pauses to check the price tag, "five bucks for mine." He turns away from the display case, shaking his head like he's actually disgusted. "They're tiny, too."

"In their defense, you could probably eat that whole display case and still have room for half that Burger King over there."

Isaac's eyebrow ticks. "Half?"

"I figured you would probably want to save some room for the in-flight meal," Danny appeases.

"In-flight meal?"

"Yeah…it's a meal that they serve on the plane. You know, _in flight_."

Isaac reaches out and pokes him in the chest. "Now who's being sassy?"

"I'm _always_ sassy. It's kind of my thing."

"You have a lot of things," Isaac says.

"And you love each and every one of them, admit it."

Isaac frowns thoughtfully, bobbing his head side to side. "Well," he says, "most of them." And then he flashes Danny a mischievous little smile, and Danny's just about to retaliate when he hears someone call out "Caffè Mocha" and he turns to see the barista that rang them up sliding their cups onto the little counter.

"You boys have a safe flight," he says.

Danny nods and takes his cup, already fitted with the little cardboard thing. "Thanks. Have a good day."

"Have a good day," Isaac echoes, grabbing his own cup, complete with dangling _Tazo_ label. Danny smiles, too, because he knows that even though he didn't see it, Isaac's already squirreled away a handful of sugar packets in his pocket. He really does have a sweet tooth. "So, where to now?"

"Someplace to sit down," Danny tells him, and he starts off towards the stairs on the other side of the Roadhouse restaurant, trusting Isaac to follow him. And, of course, he does. Within the blink of an eye, he's in step with Danny.

The couch and chairs are right where Danny remembers them, nestled in the crook between what he's pretty sure is an office space and a janitor's closet. Something about the way he lights are set up make the whole place a little dimmer – not too much, but just enough that it's not that harsh fluorescent sort of light that's in the rest of the place – and he knows from experience the couch is surprisingly comfy. To this day, he's still not sure why people walk right past it to go sit in those God-awful mounted seats.

"Nice," Isaac says as Danny walks around the small table to snag a seat on the sofa. He follows suit, sitting his tea on the table and immediately setting to emptying one, no, two of the sugar packets into his still-brewing tea. When he sits back, he looks at Danny, who's already taken the lid off his coffee to let it cool and taken a few sips. "Is it good?"

Danny nods, and holds it out to him. "Try some?"

And one of Isaac's _things_ – because they both apparently have things – is that if someone offers him something, he tends to take it, even if it's just to make them happy. But he's not one of those people that refuses to sample ice cream at the shop or refuses to try a bite of food at a restaurant, and Danny's glad, because he doesn't really like those people.

Isaac doesn't bother blowing on the drink before he takes a sip, and when he takes it away, he's nodding. "It's good," he says, but then he furrows his brows. "What?"

Danny's laughing. He's trying to hold it in, but it's not really working, because holy _God_, some sights just make life worth living. "You've got a little whipped cream on your nose," he manages to say before he has to cover his mouth, because it's really just too much. Isaac is a werewolf. He can punch through walls, run faster than an Olympic gold medalist, and _probably_ kill someone blindfolded with a hand tied behind his back.

But he's such a _goofball_ sometimes.

"Think this is funny?" Isaac's question would probably be a little more powerful if he wasn't smiling, too. But then he swipes his thumb across his nose and, before Danny can react, smears it across the tip of Danny's.

That, of course, means war.

Without missing a beat, Danny dips his finger in the cream of his coffee and dabs it back on Isaac's nose.

Isaac laughs. "Now we really do match."

"Yep," Danny says, then, "wait, hold on." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. And even though Isaac rolls his eyes, he doesn't complain, because Danny's kind of a picture guy, and Isaac's learned to just put up with it. Danny scoots in close, and Isaac puts an arm around him while Danny holds out the phone. "Say Hawaii."

"Hawaii."

Danny snaps the picture, and then opens it up to look at it. Isaac's got his nose wrinkled and his eyes closed, but Danny knows he does it on purpose. He learned the hard way that werewolf eyes and cameras don't mix really well, and it's cute anyway.

Satisfied, he reaches up and swipes the cream off his nose with his thumb and puts it in his mouth. Isaac's about to drag his sleeve across his, but Danny bats his hand away. "Don't waste it," he says, and without thinking, he repeats the process for Isaac. It's not until he catches Isaac looking at him funny that he realizes what he did, and it's not until Isaac's kissing him that he realizes he's an accidental genius sometimes.

As much fun as a public make-out session would be, though, they leave it there. Isaac leans forward to rifle in his bag for a second before he pulls out his book, and Danny does the same, except he grabs his iPod, too. He's got a mix of his and Isaac's music loaded – Isaac's eclectic indie-pop's really starting to grow on Danny, and Danny's pretty sure he's caught Isaac humming some Bruno Mars the other day – and once they get settled, Isaac leaning against the wall in the corner, and Danny leaning against him, he offers him a headphone.

That's how they spend the next couple hours, just kind of stretched out on the couch, each reading their books, listening to music, and just generally enjoying each other's presence.

When eight-fifteen rolls around, they drag themselves up and head to Gate 24 where Danny's parents are waiting and Kalea's sprawled out across a couple of the chairs, snoozing away. She's got his dad's jacket as a blanket, and she's using his mom's leg as a pillow, and yeah, Danny definitely gets a picture of that, too. "Kodak moment," he says.

He gets the feeling there's gonna be a lot of those this trip.


	4. Chapter 4

Danny notices the change in Isaac the second they set foot on the plane.

His whole body goes stiff. That usual easy grace he's got when he walks is gone, and every step seems like Isaac's having to make a conscious effort to make it. Danny can't really tell more than that until they get to their seats – at the very least, they're first class, because Danny hates to admit it, but seeing Isaac now, he's not actually sure he could handle coach – but when they get to the front of first class where their seats are and Danny can finally see his face, what he sees isn't good.

Isaac's eyes are wide, and that would be bad enough, but it's the _look_ in them that makes Danny's chest tighten. He's pale as a ghost, too, except for the shadows under his eyes and the ones his jawbones are making, the way he's got them clenched. His nose is flared, and Danny can actually see his shoulders move with each breath he's taking.

All in all, not good.

"Hey," he says as Isaac stops dead in the aisleway. His fingers are clamped on the back of the seat, and even though Danny doesn't see claws, he knows that if Isaac grips much harder, something might tear. In the spirit of not ruining a probably very expensive airline seat and also not having to explain how it was even _possible _to ruin said seat, Danny quickly slips his hand around Isaac's and pulls it away from the seat. He knows he only could because Isaac let him, but he's actually taking that as a good sign.

Although, the whole 'wolfing out' scenario is suddenly a whole lot less funny than it was at Danny's house earlier.

"Isaac, it's okay," he says softly enough that his parents in the row behind them won't hear, knowing that Isaac will hear him just fine. Just in case he doesn't, though, in case all the other sounds are maybe too much or something, Danny gives his hand a little squeeze, and he's relieved when Isaac actually manages to look at him. He favors him with a smile that he hopes is reassuring, despite the nervous churning he can feel in his own stomach. Maybe Isaac on an airplane wasn't such a good idea. An elevator's one thing. It's like, five minutes.

This is five _hours_. With no exit. And if Isaac _does_ wolf out—

No. Danny throws the thought out before he can even finishes it, because that's _not_ going to happen, and him getting worked up isn't going to help. Of course, neither will sitting down, but he figures that's as good a place to start as any.

"Do you want the window, or the aisle?" he asks.

He can _see_ Isaac's Adam's apple bob before he speaks. "Window." Just the one word, but Danny can hear how tense it sounds, and his voice is kind of hoarse. They've barely been on the plane three minutes, and Isaac's already freaked out. And vows of calmness aside, Danny can't help thinking he never should have dragged Isaac into this.

God, he's an awful boyfriend.

He quashes that thought, too, and instead focuses on sliding into the seat next to Isaac and shoving his bag under the chair. They're in the very, _very_ front row, which is cool because there's only the two seats, whereas all the others have three, and there's way more leg room. He's pretty sure his mom might've done that on purpose, because she's the one that books the flight and, well, she knows things.

Unfortunately, the cure to claustrophobia is not among them.

Isaac's in his seat, now. His leg's bouncing freaking allegro, and if the way his nose is flaring is any indication of how fast he's breathing, then Danny's really not sure how he hasn't hyperventilated yet.

He actually jumps when Danny puts a hand on his knee. Not the bouncing one, because he's not going to try to restrain his nervous energy. That doesn't help anything. He doesn't pull his hand back, either, just waits patiently until he looks at him again.

"You sure you're up to this?" Danny asks, still quietly.

For a single, arrhythmia-inducing second, Isaac doesn't respond, but then, he gives a stiff nod. "Yeah," he says, and he's still nodding, and Danny's thinking he might be trying to convince himself, too. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'm okay."

Danny wants to believe that, but that would mean convincing himself that Isaac's only shaking because his leg's bouncing. And Danny's never really been great at lying to himself.

It doesn't help that, not even a handful of seconds after Isaac finishes saying that, some jackass drops his luggage from the overhead right above their seat. Isaac jumps again, and Danny puts his other hand on his shoulder, because, he doesn't know, that one felt like a little less of a jump and a little more of a pre-lunge.

"Maybe closing your eyes would help?" Danny suggests.

But Isaac shakes his head, and it's the kind of headshake like he doesn't really trust his voice. He's got his hands on his knees, fingers digging into fabric of the track pants. Still no claws, which Danny decides to be relieved about.

The relief lasts all of about six minutes. In those six minutes, two people have dropped their luggage, two people have bumped into Danny on their way to their seat, and one baby has decided that now would be an _excellent _time to show it's mommy and daddy and the rest of the whole west-freaking-coast just how loud it can cry.

Meanwhile, Isaac's sitting there, taut as a bowstring, staring pointedly out the window like he's trying to imagine he's outside, and he's still breathing just as fast as before, and Danny's kind of having his own little freak out, because he trusts Isaac, he really does, but this is also kind of a really craptastic situation they're in, and he feels guilty for it.

Honestly, he didn't think Isaac would have this reaction, or else he wouldn't have invited him. Isaac meeting his grandmother isn't worth seeing Isaac suffer like this, and he knows if it wouldn't be, like, a massive bitch slap to Isaac's pride, he would probably be throwing outs at Isaac like confetti at a Pride parade. But Isaac's already said he's good, and Danny…Danny has to trust him. He _does_ trust him.

That doesn't keep his heart from stopping when some plus-size asshole practically body checks him. Which in and of itself would only be annoying and not really cardiac-arrest-worthy.

Only, Isaac's suddenly on his feet, and he practically shoves the guy out of the way getting out to the aisle, and Danny's not really sure if he's about to make a break for it or what, so he stands up, too.

But then Isaac turns on him, and his eyes flash gold for just a second, and _there's_ the heart attack, and even when they go right back to their normal blue, Danny's stomach's somewhere down in his toes.

And then, "Switch seats with me."

It's not a request, and it's not a suggestion. Isaac's voice is low and strained and everything that suggests he is about one second from chasing that guy down and _really_ ruining his day. So, Danny does the only rational thing.

He sits his ass down in the window seat.

That, mercifully, seems to appease Isaac, at least enough to get him to sit down, and okay, yeah, once he's done having his mild cardiac event, he'll probably think it's kind of amazing that, of all the things Isaac's got to freak out about right now, _Danny_ getting bumped into is the one that he can't stand. But for the time being, he'd kind of like to bring Isaac back off the ledge a little bit. Especially since he's pretty sure his parents are looking at them.

"Okay, come here." And that also is not a request, because Danny knows what he's freaking doing, goddammit. Isaac is his boyfriend, and as such, Danny's well-versed in his particular breed of werewolf-taming.

When Isaac doesn't move immediately, Danny very pointedly closes his fingers in the front of Isaac's shirt and tugs him forward. It's not hard – not enough to actually even make Isaac move any; just enough to make his point – but Isaac relents anyway, and with a little bit of twisting around in his seat, Danny pulls him into a tight hug.

Isaac's really tense at first. Like, _stone wall_ tense. But Danny cups his hand on the back of his neck, brushing his fingers through the shorter hair at the base of his neck, and after a few seconds, he starts to relax. And yes, Danny knows his parents are watching, as are about half the other passengers in first class. He just shoots them – the gawkers, not his parents – a look that says 'look at all the fucks I do not give' and goes back to ignoring them, because they really couldn't be _less_ important right now.

"Deep breaths," Danny whispers into Isaac's curly hair. He can feel him panting against his neck where his face his buried, and he's letting out these quiet, heartbreaking whines from low in his throat. But Danny thinks that if he can get his breathing down to a slightly less distressing rate, then maybe he can get his heartrate down, and maybe he'll settle down a little.

"Is he okay?" Leila mouths over the seat when Danny catches her eye.

"He's claustrophobic," Danny mouths back. It's not like it's not just a little bit obvious, and it's better than 'he's a werewolf, and he may or may not be turning,' which is definitely a conversation Danny's really not ready to have. That one's not his secret to tell, anyway.

Leila frowns sympathetically, but she doesn't look like it's news, so yeah, Danny was right: she definitely knows something. She doesn't say anything, though, and Danny's grateful for it, because he thinks Isaac's starting to calm down, and he doesn't want him getting embarrassed or anything. It's not really anything to be embarrassed about, but Danny knows that won't stop him.

Thankfully, by the time the flight attendant gets up to the front and starts her usual safety spiel, Isaac's calmed down enough to sit back. And when Danny hears his dad quietly speaking along with the attendant – because he really does travel _way_ too much – Danny joins in – because even if he doesn't travel as much as his dad, he's only heard this spiel about three dozen times – and he catches Isaac looking at him and flashes him a smile.

He gets so happy when Isaac smiles back, even just a little, that he _totally_ forgets what comes next, and ends up just shrugging and laughing sheepishly. Which actually has the unexpected benefit of getting a sort of huff-laugh out of Isaac.

Okay, Danny thinks. Okay. They can do this. This is totally going to going to work.

Feeling his smile widen a little bit, he finishes strong with the safety spiel and reaches a hand over the back of his chair to fist-bump his dad, while his mom rolls her eyes at the both of them.

"Just how many times _have_ you done this?" Isaac says suddenly. His voice is quiet, and Danny can tell he's still pretty stressed out, but hey, that was a full, coherent sentence. That's progress.

Hello, silver lining.

"_Way_ too many," Danny admits, and then, when he sees Isaac's eyes flit out to the window, he turns and sees they've started moving. And claustrophobia aside, Isaac seems to think that's pretty freaking amazing, so Danny makes a point of pushing up the armrest between their chairs so Isaac can lean over.

He takes the cue – he's smart like that – and leans over Danny's legs to stare out the window, and between the throwback of the fascination from before and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lightly-parted lips, Danny gets kind of a funny thought.

"So," he says, his voice lowered and a teasing sort of smile on his face when Isaac turns his head to look at him, "if we could roll this window down, how fast would you be putting your head out of it?"

Isaac answers with a deadpan look that clearly reads, 'did you _really_ just say that?' before he lets out a huff, shakes his head, and goes back to staring out the window. But he's definitely smiling, now, and this time, when his eyes widen, it's not fear. They plane's made it to the right strip, and they're picking up speed, and then there's the familiar lurch of them lifting into the air.

And okay, yeah, Isaac doesn't care for that too much. He sits back a little, his face falling and shoulders hunching, and Danny's reminded a little bit of a puppy that gets startled mid-investigation of some new and wonderful thing.

He puts a hand on his back, and Isaac turns to look at him. "Isaac Newton can totally suck it, right?" Danny says, and _boom_, there's the smile again.

Eventually, they get to altitude, and Isaac has to stop staring out the window, because the clouds are so bright they make his eyes water. Danny almost feels a little guilty when he has to slide the window cover down, if only because he feels like he's taking away some sort of safety blanket.

It's true, too, that Isaac tenses up a little bit after that, but then Danny reaches under his seat – Isaac's, because that's where his stuff still is, and his head kind of ends up pretty much in Isaac's lap, and _that'll_ give the gawkers something to look at – and when he comes back up, he's got his iPod, a head pillow, and a blanket. They actually hand them out, but Danny doesn't like the fabric, so he brings his own.

Angling himself in the corner formed by the wall of the cabin and his chair, he gets comfortable before patting his shoulder.

Isaac doesn't need telling twice. He turns around in his seat a little bit, until he can lean back against Danny, his head resting perfectly in the cradle of Danny's shoulder and one of the earbuds in his ear. And yes, Isaac _does_ root around like a puppy. Between nosing at Danny's neck and getting the blanket they're sharing spread out just right, they get through two songs on Danny's iPod.

"Comfy?" Danny teases when Isaac finally settles down, and Isaac hums in response. "Music okay?" He's got it on shuffle, and he's figured out a good volume where it's loud enough for Danny and not too loud for Isaac, and Isaac hums again, nodding. "Want me to wake you up for lunch?" Another hum. It's a good thing, Danny thinks, that he's fluent in Isaac-speak, because otherwise, this could be a very ambiguous conversation. "Want me to stop talking and let you sleep?" He's expecting another hum, maybe a smile, but Isaac actually peels an eye open.

"I like your voice," he says simply, and then he closes his eyes again, shifts a little, and settles back down.

Danny chuckles. "Well, okay then." He's also apparently a pretty big fan of Danny's heartbeat, or so he's been told. It must do the trick, because in a little while, Isaac's breath evens out, and all the stress lines still lingering on his face relax.

Danny's awake for maybe one more song, during which he's vaguely aware of the flash of a camera somewhere over his head, but then he's out.


	5. Chapter 5

Turns out, Isaac's plan works: he ends up sleeping most of the plane ride.

As promised, Danny does wake him up for lunch. Well, Danny's mom wakes them both up, because Danny was dozing pretty heavy there, too. The lunch is some kind of fish; it's _always_ some kind of fish, and Danny will admit, it's pretty good.

Isaac doesn't seem to think so, though. He doesn't turn his nose up at it or anything, but he's just kind of pushing it around the tray with the fork, picking at it. Which is way different from his usual black-hole-esque style of eating, and Danny thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's found the match for Isaac's bottomless stomach.

Out of sympathy, once the attendants come by and take their plates, Danny offers him his packet of Biscoff cookies, because even if nerves have taken away his astonishing appetite, he knows he's still got his sweet tooth. He's not disappointed, either – not that he's ever disappointed in Isaac – because Isaac polishes off both packets before he settles back against Danny's shoulder and goes back to sleep.

This time, though, Danny doesn't follow him. He's pretty much slept-out, although he can't say he minds being used as a human pillow, at least not for Isaac. Usually, it's the other way around, him kicked back against Isaac's chest and Isaac with his arms wrapped around him, so it's nice to be able to return the favor every now and then.

The In-Flight movie's that new Ice Age one, and Danny realizes it's probably pretty bad how many times he's seen that movie. He'd like to say it's all Kalea's fault, and okay, some of it is. But weirdly, some of it's Stiles'. They've started meeting up at Stiles' every Friday night, while his dad's working the late shift. "Pack nights" Stiles called them, and the name just kind of stuck. It's mostly just an excuse to sit around eating junk food and watching movies: him, Isaac, Stiles, Derek, Allison, Scott, and Lydia. Sometimes, Danny feels bad for her. Lydia, he means, because they pretty much always end up pairing off, curling up with their significant others, and Lydia's is on the other side of the country. But he usually dismisses the feeling pretty quickly, because Lydia Martin's a lot of things, but 'pitiable' isn't one of them.

As he's finding out, Derek Hale's a lot of things, too. Broody, short-tempered, and totally, obviously, _painfully_ wrapped around Stiles' little finger. Not that Stiles seems to notice, but he's pretty sure everyone, Derek included, can see the signs. After all, some of the stuff he gets away with putting in the DVD player on their pack nights is a-freaking-mazing; no way Derek would put up with it if he didn't have it bad for their resident researcher.

Not that Danny can really talk about some of the stuff Stiles gets them to watch. Aside from a few Disney/Pixar flicks from time to time, which Danny honestly can't say he minds, and the odd we're-watching-this-because-it-sucks-so-bad-it's-f unny cult classics, it's mostly superhero movies. And what does Danny do to pass the time for the remaining couple hours of the flight? He whips out his iPad and starts reading comics, _like a boss_. He's also trying to remember whether all the Maroon 5 songs that keep coming on his iPod are Isaac's or his, but that's neither here nor there.

He's just made it to The Amazing Spider-Man #611 – and yes, he has read 1-610, partly because, okay, yeah, it's Isaac's favorite series, but mostly because he is, like, _double pretzel_ level nerd – when his mom reaches over the back of the seat and taps him on the top of the head.

"Look out the window," she says, and Danny does. He opens the window cover, only to close his eyes. Hours of dim cabin lights and an iPad screen are a little bit different from actual sunlight, and it takes him a few blinks before his vision clears well enough for him to really get a good look at the bright blue ocean and the islands stretched out across it. No matter how many times he sees it, it still manages to take his breath away.

Then he looks at Isaac, sleeping on his shoulder, and realizes that's not the only thing anymore.

"Has he been asleep this whole time?" Danny turns at the sound of his dad's voice to see him peeking over the back of the seat, an eyebrow raised in Isaac's general direction.

"Yep."

Robert's eyebrow arches a little higher, and he looks amused. "Well, are you going to wake him up?"

"I probably should, shouldn't I?"

Robert just shakes his head, rolling his eyes, but he's laughing as he sits back in his seat. Danny hears the distinct _thwap_ of his mom smacking his stomach, and he thinks he hears her whisper something like 'it's _cute_, Robbie,' and his dad just chuckles louder.

So yeah, aside from a little bit of a rocky start, this whole vacation thing hasn't been a giant clusterfuck after all.

Smiling a little to himself, Danny powers off his iPad. He wasn't going to read that volume yet, anyway. He happens to know it's Isaac's favorite one; he let it slip once that his brother, Camden, gave a first print to him for his twelfth birthday. Isaac had laughed when he told Danny it was two months late, that his birthday was in September, and Camden couldn't get away from boot camp until the week before Thanksgiving.

It wasn't until a few weeks after that story that Danny found out he died in combat the next January.

But no, it was a happy story, and Isaac even told him that when he _finally_ made it up to that issue – because Isaac's level of nerd is secretly the triple banana to Danny's double pretzel – to let him know, that he wanted to read it with him. And Danny knows that means something, that Isaac wants to share that with him, so he'll hold off. Maybe they'll get to it sometime this vacation.

In the meantime, though, there's something Danny wants to share with Isaac, so after stowing his iPad in his bag, he gives Isaac a soft shake on the shoulder. "Wake up, sleeping beauty," he says softly.

It's loud enough, though, and Isaac's eyes open. He looks pretty calm, all things considered, just kind of sits up straight and stretches a little, which Danny's taking as a good sign.

For the record, though, it's not fair at all how quick he can go from totally passed out to totally conscious.

"Morning, sunshine," Danny says, and Isaac turns to look at him. He blinks a few times, and okay, maybe he's not _totally_ conscious. But bleary's okay. Bleary, Danny can work with, and he reaches up and ruffles loose some of Isaac's curls where they've flattened against his head before leaning back and gesturing towards the window.

"Come here, you gotta see this."

"What is it?" Only Danny's not really sure why he asks, because he's already leaning across Danny's lap to look out the window. It's not until he flinches back that Danny realizes he probably should've warned him, because it's bright, and Isaac's been sleeping for, what, two hours now? His eyes adjust pretty quickly, though, and Danny can tell when they do, because they widen, and his lips part around a quiet breath. "Is that…?"

Danny clears his throat as pretentiously as he can and sits up a little, and Isaac moves enough to let Danny see out the window, too. "If you look out the window to your right," he says in his best impersonation of a tour guide, which is honestly pretty awful, "you'll see the beautiful archipelago of the Hawaiian Islands. We are currently flying over the island of Hawaii, nicknamed 'The Big Island,' for obvious reasons." And when Isaac cuts his eyes over at him, he flashes him a wink. "Still like my voice?"

Isaac responds by rolling his eyes, but Danny decides not to take it too personally, especially when Isaac leans in to press a kiss to his neck. "Still like your voice," he says, then turns back to look out the window. "So, what's that one?"

Danny looks at where he's pointing, to the next island in the line. "'The Not So Big Island?'"

Isaac actually turns his whole head around and looks at him this time, eyebrows raised like, 'Did you really just say that?', and Danny raises his right back like, 'Yes. Yes I did.'

"You're kind of odd, you know that?" But Isaac's smiling as he says it, so it's really hard to take that personally, too.

Isaac doesn't need to know that, though.

"Just hush and go back to your window," Danny says, as close to indignantly as he can. He thinks some of the affection must slip through, though, or at least the humor, because Isaac just smiles a little wider and steals another kiss before he turns back to the window.

He points to another island, his long, graceful fingers tracing the glass. "What's that one?"

Danny leans back in so he can see which one Isaac's pointing at. "That's Molokai. 'The Friendly Isle.'"

"Why's it friendly?"

Danny shrugs. "Maybe it just likes people."

Isaac hits his head on the glass with a _thunk_.

"Was that somebody's head?" Leila asks over the seat. Because of course she heard the thunk. It was a very audible thunk. "You boys be careful. You'll hurt something."

Behind them, Kalea snorts. "Yeah. Like the _plane_," she says. At twelve, she's developed what Danny would describe as an above-average grasp of sarcasm.

He's so proud.

He's also amused, and his shoulders shake with quiet laughter as he goes back to window-watching with Isaac. Isaac glances over at him, then back out the window, nose flaring around a huff that could either be a sulk or a laugh. Possibly both.

"I'm almost afraid to ask anything else," he mutters.

Danny shakes his head. "Don't worry, I think I've reached my bad joke quota for the afternoon. Here." He reaches up where Isaac's hand is still resting against the glass and guides his finger over to point to the arrowhead-shaped island. "That's Oahu."

"The one we're going to." It's not a question; Danny's told him that much. But he nods anyway and smiles, pleased Isaac remembers. Of course, knowing Isaac, he probably remembers the freaking address. The guy's memory is just…wow.

"Yep. Tutu's house is on the windward side of the island." He slides Isaac's finger up a little to point to the right side of the island.

"Just north of Kaneohe," Isaac finishes, and he even gets the pronunciation right.

"Someone's been practicing."

He was just joking, but when he glances over, he sees that familiar blush lighting up his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and he can't decide whether he wants to laugh or melt, because that is both funny and incredibly, diabetes-inducingly sweet.

"Have I ever told you I love you? Because I _really_ love you."

Isaac's face splits in one of those big, holy-God-those-dimples smiles of his. "You might've mentioned it once or twice," he says, and Danny's probably got a less-amazingly-dimpled – although Isaac seems to think he has great dimples, but then, Isaac's kind of biased – version of that grin on his own face, especially as Isaac slips his fingers through Danny's and brings his hand from the window to press a kiss to the back of his hand. "Love you too."

They spend the rest of the flight like that, hand in hand, staring out the window. Occasionally, Danny'll point something out. Landmarks, mostly, once they get in close enough. He remembers all the times his mom did the same for him; it's kind of part of the experience.

Getting off the plane's kind of interesting. All the people suddenly up and crowding the aisles at once, Isaac goes back to high alert. But this time, Danny's still holding his hand, and when he sees Isaac's nose begin to flare, he squeezes Isaac's hand tighter. He wills himself to stay calm, and maybe it's just his imagination, but he feels like this time, it helps.

Granted, it's a little bit tricky getting out like that.

They manage, and Danny doesn't think he's ever seen someone so happy to be in an airport terminal before in his life. It's like Isaac suddenly remembers how to breathe, and even though he keeps close enough to brush Danny's shoulders more often than not, Danny can practically _feel_ the relief coming off him in waves.

That, in turn, makes Danny feel better, which is good, because baggage claim's a bitch. He and Isaac get stuck manning the conveyor while his mom and dad take Kalea to go get Kekipu.

After the third asshole bumps into Danny trying to get to his bag, though, it ends up being Isaac manning the conveyor, and Danny watching all their suitcases and pointing them out when he they come. Which he should probably mind a lot more than he does, because he doesn't _need_ to be protected from freaking tourists, and he really hates being useless, but it's not Isaac's fault; he can't help his instincts, and Danny knows arguing and sticking around would just stress him out. Besides, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't sweet, in a totally unnecessary, vaguely fanatical sort of way.

The view's kinda nice, though.

It gets a lot nicer, though, when they finally make it outside of the airport. They've got a rental – an Explorer, of course, because his dad is nothing if not consistent – and he thinks it's taking every ounce of dignity and self-control Isaac has not to start bouncing the second they hit the great outdoors. Seriously, he's like a puppy, grinning at Danny every time he looks at him, and brushing up against him every three seconds, like he's checking to make sure Danny's still paying attention and knows just how _awesome_ this is.

And Danny just laughs, because after the last five hours, he knows exactly how awesome it is. Only, as beautiful as it is, he's not really concerned about the outdoors. He's too busy looking at that smile, too busy enjoying every brush of Isaac's shoulders against his. He's too busy enjoying _being _there, with Isaac, with his family.

They've finished loading everything into the back, and they're all getting in the car, but Danny catches Isaac by the pocket of his pants at the back of the car. He pulls him back, turning him around, and Isaac comes willingly, sliding his arms around Danny's waist like it's automatic.

"E komo mai o Hawaii," Danny says softly, leaning his head against Isaac's, and Isaac pulls him a little closer. "Welcome to Hawaii."

Isaac hums in agreement, lips warm as they brush Danny's. "The most beautiful place on earth," he says, and Danny smiles and kisses him back.

"It is now."


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to the three hour time difference, it's just a little after one in the afternoon when they get to Tutu's house. It's set back a little off the road, with a long, winding driveway and Tutu's favorite plumeria trees planted in the front, so it takes a second before the white two-story comes into view. Even inside the car, Danny can smell all of the flowers, from the trees to the freaking twenty species of hibiscus planted in front of the porch. Tutu's a bit of a gardener, especially now that she's retired from nursing. But she's good at it.

And of course, she's already waiting for them on the front porch, hands on her wide hips, and—

"Oh God."

"What?" Isaac and Kalea say in unison.

Danny buries his face in his hands. "She's wearing the apron."

At which point Kalea lets out a groan, because she knows _exactly_ what Danny's talking about, and Isaac's left staring at them both with absolutely no idea what's going on.

"I don't get it," he says finally.

It's actually Kalea that takes pity on him. "It's one of those novelty custom aprons. We," she coughs, and it sounds suspiciously like _Danny_, "gave it to her for a Christmas present."

"Ten years ago," Danny adds from behind his hands.

Isaac's eyebrows tick upwards. "What's it say?"

Danny looks up long enough to exchange glances with Kalea, then sighs. "Anybody can be a grandma," they recite in unison, "but it takes someone special to be Danny, Kalea, Kai, Meka, and Lui's grandma."

"Wow." And Danny doesn't have to look to know there's one of those crooked little smiles forming on his lips, the one where he's laughing his ass off on the inside but is trying not to show it. "You…have a lot of cousins." Like that was what he was 'wow'ing over.

"Don't forget Wile," Leila chimes in, and then turns around in the seat to Isaac. "He's nine, so he wasn't born when we gave it to her, but she loves the apron so much, she stitched his name on it herself."

As Danny's mom gets out of the car, Isaac turns to Danny, and he's not wearing that smile anymore. "That's…that's really cute," he says casually, and there are like three seconds where Isaac just stares at him all straight-faced and impassive, but then his lips curl upwards. And now he's not even bothering to keep it inside.

Danny narrows his eyes. "You're a horrible person."

Isaac just shrugs unapologetically, flashes him a smirk, and bails out of the car. Which is probably smart, because Tutu's headed towards the car, and his dad's opening up the back, and he's the last one out, so it's probably time to go.

"Aloha," Tutu says as she reaches Danny's mom, a big grin on her plump face as she pulls her in for the customary greeting.

He can _sense_ the questions in Isaac's head, but he's too polite to voice them. And despite his being a horrible – not really – person, Danny decides to take pity on him. "It's called a _honi_," he tells him quietly as he comes up to stand by him at the back of the car. Everyone else is standing, waiting for their turn with Tutu. "Like a kiss. You touch noses and inhale…I know it sounds weird; it's kind of a symbolic thing. It's like…exchanging spiritual energy. _Ha_, is what it's called." It's not until he tries to explain it to someone that's not used to it that he realizes just how many traditions his family has. Just how deep it all runs. It's just something they _do._ He hasn't really thought about it before now.

He kind of wonders if this is what Isaac feels like when he's trying to explain the pack dynamics to Danny.

But Isaac's nodding, and not just the 'I'm only pretending to pay attention' kind of nod, either. It's like he's genuinely interested in what Danny has to say, and that makes Danny smile.

God, one of these days, he's gonna learn how to be mad at Isaac for more than thirty seconds. Seriously. It's gonna happen.

Or, you know, _not. _

"By the way, just warning you, she's probably going to smother you," Danny tells him, right about the time Tutu squeezes Kalea in a massive hug. "And by probably, I mean definitely. She's _definitely _going to smother you." Because she's a hugger, and when she hugs, she _really_ hugs.

Speaking of …while they were having their conversation, Tutu made her way through Danny's mom, dad, and now she's just finishing up with Kalea's kiss to the cheek. Which means it's Danny's turn.

When Tutu makes it to him, her smile's just as big as it was. Heck, everything's just like Danny remembers it. Her long dark hair, just starting to gray, is pulled back into a loose bun, a white plumeria flower fresh off one of the trees tucked in the band.

He, on the other hand, must've changed a lot, because when she gets to him, after exchanging _honi_ and hugs, she leans back, holding him by the upper arms. "Look at how tall you've gotten," she says, and then squeezes his arms appreciatively. "And you've filled out, too." She says that part a little quieter, and Danny's relieved for the point five second it takes him to remember that his boyfriend, the one he has to worry about her embarrassing him in front of, has super hearing.

So…yeah. He's pretty sure his face isn't _actually_ on fire; it just feels that way. And it doesn't help when she lets him go and turns to Isaac, because as proud and happy and head-over-heels-in-love as he is with his boyfriend, there's a certain level of anxiety that comes with introducing him to your grandmother. Especially when one's kind of skittish about his personal space and the other may actually be unaware such a thing even _exists_.

"And you must be Isaac," she says, and before Isaac can answer, she's reaching into the pocket of her apron and producing a lei. Danny knows she made it herself; he recognizes the white and yellow flowers from the plumeria trees.

Isaac bows his head a little when she goes to drape it around his neck, but Danny thinks that's just so she doesn't have to reach as much, not because he's flinching or anything.

"Aloha, Isaac." And Danny's a pretty mixed bunch of emotions as he watches his grandmother greet him. Anxious, because, well, that seems like a pretty normal reaction; worried, because that's an awful lot of contact with a complete stranger; but mostly, he's just kind of…happy, because it feels like it's official now. With Tutu's welcome, it finally feels like they're really here.

And when Tutu finally releases him from one of her island-renowned bear hugs, she's smiling warmly, and Isaac's smiling that charming little smile of his.

"Thank you," he says. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

Tutu snorts and waves him off. "Please, call me Tutu. And for all Danny here talks about you, I feel like I've known you for months now," she says, letting out one of her rich-sounding laughs and pats Isaac on the cheek. "You're even cuter in person, though." And then she winks at him.

Meanwhile, Danny's wondering if it's physically possible to sink into the ground, especially when Isaac glances over at him.

Apparently, that's the end of the meet and greet, because Tutu turns and starts ushering everyone along. "Alright, let's take this party inside. Seems like you all brought a storm with you."

It's true, Danny thinks. The wind's picking up, rustling the trees, and the air feels kind of thick. Mostly, though, it's the smell that gives it away. It smells like ocean – well, more than usual, there being a beach in the back yard and all – from the wind blowing in, and electricity, and it amazes Danny how much he just wants to stand there and breathe it in.

Isaac's hand on the small of his back snaps him out of it, though, and he lets himself be steered towards the back to start unloading. His dad's already got Kekipu out on a leash, because the poor guy was losing his mind, and Tutu takes the lead from him so that they can keep unloading.

"So, you talk about me, huh?" Isaac says suddenly, and his voice is low and close, and Danny _really_ hopes he can't feel the shiver that sends down his spine.

He manages to keep a pretty good poker face, though. At least, he thinks he does. "You might've come up once or twice," he hedges casually.

Isaac nods. "Right." And when Danny glances over at him, Isaac's not looking at him, but he's wearing that smug look that somehow manages to tick him off and turn him on all at the same time. And okay, yeah, it's kind of more the latter than the former. Maybe sixty-forty.

Okay, seventy-thirty.

Of course, then Isaac reaches over him and takes his suitcase for him with a smile, and it ends up being a little more like eighty-twenty. Seriously, one of these days…

"To make up for being a horrible person," Isaac tells him as he passes, duffel bag on one shoulder, backpack in the other, and Danny's suitcase in his free hand.

…but it is not this day.

"Danny, get the crate," his dad says, effectively snapping him out of whatever Lahey-LOTR lala land he drifted off to. And he does, grabbing the now-empty crate and closing the door before he follows the rest of his family inside the house.

Isaac's waiting for him inside, standing between the door and the sofa under the window and just kind of…staring. The rest of the family's already headed in, and Kalea's already trotting up the stairs to the other side of the door where all the guest bedrooms are. Technically, the house was only a three-bedroom, with all the bedrooms upstairs, but when Danny's grandpa's health started getting bad a few years ago, they converted the downstairs study off the living room into the master bedroom. His grandpa passed the year before last, from renal failure as a complication of Type II diabetes, but Tutu kept the room. She says she just didn't feel like moving her stuff; Danny knows it's because her knees are getting bad, and she just can't do the stairs anymore. She's just too stubborn to admit it.

"This place is amazing," Isaac says without turning, but Danny's not surprised. He knows Isaac could probably hear him coming from a mile away – literally – and to be honest, he kind of likes that thought.

He sits the crate down and closes the door before leaning up against Isaac's side. Normally, he'd worry about weighing him down, Isaac holding all that other stuff, but well…he's _Isaac_. And besides, he doesn't seem to mind.

"I'll give you the grand tour later," he says. "In the meantime, how about I show you where to put our stuff." Maybe it's just him making something out of nothing, but he gets a little bit of a thrill saying _our_ stuff. He shakes it off, though, and picks up the crate before heading off up the stairs after Kalea. He hears Isaac falling into step behind him, his boots thudding dully on the wood of the stairs and, later, of the loft. It might not be a mile, but he knows for a fact that he would recognize that sound anywhere.

"Ours is the last one on the right," he tells him as they head down the hall. He knows he said he'd give him the grand tour later, but he figures if it's on the way, he might as well. "The first door's the bathroom, the next one's Kalea's, and the one on the left is my parents'." They're all technically guest bedrooms, but they stay in them the most out of anybody else, so Danny's just gotten used to calling them that. "If you wanna go on in, I gotta run this by my parent's room."

"Does he sleep in that?" Isaac asks, nodding to the crate.

Danny shakes his head. "Nah, he sleeps with me, if that's okay with you." Even though Danny knows it's not really an 'if'. He knows Kekipu wouldn't have it any other way, and he doesn't think Isaac would either. They seem to get each other. "My parents just have the bigger closet." And with a wink, he ducks away to make his delivery into his parents' room.

They're already in there, and so is Tutu – like he said: stubborn – and they all three turn to look at him when he comes in.

"Just dropping off the crate," he says, and then he turns to leave, but then his mom stops him.

"Hold on, Danny."

Danny turns back around. "Yeah?"

"We were just talking about rooming arrangements, and—"

"Oh for Pele's sake, just leave them be," Tutu interjects. "We were all teenagers once. Some of us longer ago than others." The last part, she aims at Danny. "They're gonna do what they're gonna do. Separating them's not gonna do anything but make them sulk, and I don't get to see my grandson enough to have him waste all his time skulking around like a kicked puppy."

Danny skips the mortification stage – his grandma's just talking to his parents about he and Isaac having sex, no big deal – and resists the urge to point out that, if anyone's gonna be skulking around like a kicked puppy, it's probably gonna be Isaac. Danny's not that cute when he's mad.

Leila and Robert look at each other, but they must've already had some of this conversation before Danny walked in, because after a second, they sigh in stereo. "_Best_ behavior," Leila says.

Danny holds up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

"Scout sign's three fingers," Robert says.

Danny quickly pops up the third finger, and then decides just to exit stage right before they change their minds. "Alright, so me and Isaac are just gonna unpack, then I'm gonna show him around…catch you guys later?"

"Go." Tutu shoos him off, a smile in her eyes. "You boys have fun. Make sure you show him the beach before the storm hits." And then she winks, and Danny takes that as his cue to am-scray.

He crosses the hall probably a little quicker than he should, and goes into his room, closing the door behind him. It, too, is just like he left it: queen-sized bed, a dresser, TV stand, tan walls with all sorts of original paintings Tutu likes to pick up at the markets. The bedspread's plain white – he happens to know all the bedspreads are, because Tutu just likes to "chuck it all in the wash with some bleach and be done with it" – and a light green quilt Tutu stitched herself. It's all really warm and cozy, just like Danny remembers.

And then there's Isaac.

Who happens to be standing in the middle of the room, a solemn look on his face and two fingers raised stiffly in the air.

"Oh, you're a riot."

Isaac's face cracks into a grin. "Sorry," he says.

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not." And then he's crossing the room, slow, easy steps and a sly smile. Danny's determined to hold his grudge this time, though, so he pulls one right out of pre-school and takes a ninety degree to face the window.

Not that Isaac seems to care. He comes up behind him, slipping his arms around Danny's waist and pressing up against his back, until Danny could swear the whole room gets ten degrees hotter. And then his lips are by Danny's ear, his breath warm against Danny's cheek. "But I'll make it up to you anyway."

_And_ there it goes.

Rolling his eyes – more at himself than Isaac, he thinks – he slips Isaac's arms from around his waist and turns around, still holding onto Isaac's wrists. "You can make it up to me later," he says, and he fully intends to hold him to that, because hey, what can he say? He _is_ a teenager. "I promised Tutu I'd show you the beach before the storm hit."

Isaac actually whines, but allows himself to be led out of the room. He does eventually reclaim his hold on Danny's waist, though, keeping his arm loosely slung around his hips as they walk out onto through the kitchen and onto the lanai.

"And here we are," Danny tells him. The back yard is mostly grass, surrounded on both sides by a thick wall of trees, but out at the end, the grass becomes sand, and from there, sand becomes open ocean, all right there. "Come on."

He leads him out to the beach, pausing only long enough to kick his shoes off by the weathered little patio set about halfway between the house and the beach and for Isaac to do the same, before heading out to the beach.

His toes sink into the sand, and it's warm despite the wind coming in off the water, and _God_, he's missed this. The ocean, the sand, the trees. Even the storm clouds across the water look better here, and he finds himself smiling as he sits down, especially when Isaac sits down beside him. They've both got their knees drawn up, their arms around them, but their elbows and shoulders touch, and Danny leans his head against Isaac's.

"You like it here," Isaac says after…Danny doesn't even know how long. His voice is soft, like he's afraid to disturb something, but Danny thinks it's actually kind of soothing.

"I spent a lot of time here when I was a kid," Danny says, shrugging.

"When you weren't off being a Boyscout, you mean."

Danny bumps Isaac's shoulder. "Smartass." But he's smiling, because it's…it's nice. Sitting here like this, their easy banter, just unwinding and enjoying each others' company. "Like you're such an expert, anyway. Were you ever a scout?"

"Actually, yeah," Isaac says, and Danny glances over to see him hanging his head, and there's that blush again coloring his ears.

"No."

Isaac nods. "Life Scout."

"Which is…?"

"The second-highest rank you can get." His shoulders slump. "I had eighteen merit badges."

Having never been a Boy Scout, Danny's not really sure how to take that, but he's assuming the number's pretty high. And he can't help it: he chuckles. "Wow," he says, and when Isaac turns his head to look at him, shoulders still slumped, he's smiling at him. "That…I think that's my new favorite thing about you."

Isaac stares at him a second longer before Danny's smile catches, and he bumps Danny right back. Danny's about to complain about that not being very scout-ly of him, but before he can get a word out, Isaac's kissing him.

When he leans back, Danny bites his lip, but then, "Nope. No, definitely not my favorite thing about you." And then he leans in for a kiss of his own.

They spend a good half hour out there, occasionally trading kisses, but mostly just teasing and talking and enjoying the sound of the waves lapping at the beach and the thunder rolling in the distance.

Until it's not so in-the-distance, and then they end up in a mad rush back to the house as the sky opens up and flings buckets down on them, which would probably go a lot faster if they weren't both laughing and stumbling into each other every five seconds. And by the time they get inside, they're both dripping wet, and Danny's stomach hurts from laughing so hard, and Tutu takes one look at them from the stove and throws towels at them both, which just makes them laugh that much harder.

They laugh their way up the stairs and into their bedroom, where Danny's thinking they're going to change clothes, but before he can get to his suitcase, Isaac's got him by the hips. He spins him around like it's nothing, and Danny could swear he sees his eyes flash gold for a second before his lips are on his, and vaguely he's aware of the wall at his back, but he's way more focused on the hands sliding under his shirt, up his chest, across his skin.

Danny scrambles to get a grip on Isaac's shirt, and Isaac breaks the kiss so Danny can tug it up over his head, the lei with it. Isaac peels Danny's soaked shirt off right after, and both disappear somewhere in a wet pile, but Danny really doesn't care where, because Isaac's kissing at his neck and his shoulder, and Danny's got one hand tangled in Isaac's hair and the other at his hip, pulling him closer. A gasp breaks from his lips when Isaac's teeth find that spot over his pulse point, but then Isaac's mouth is there to catch it and Danny's not sure if he's dizzy from the lack of air or the heat or what, but he doesn't care.

His fingers find the elastic of Isaac's track pants and slip underneath, his short nails scraping over smooth flesh, and Isaac lets out a low sound somewhere between a moan and a growl that makes Danny's blood rush. His hands slide down from Danny's waist to his ass, and he lifts him up without so much as breaking the kiss.

And then they're falling, and Danny's back hits something soft, and Isaac's on top of him. But Danny has a better idea, and while Isaac's still off balance, he flips them, straddling Isaac's waist, and somehow, he gets the feeling Isaac doesn't mind all that much.

"Remind me to show you the beach again tomorrow," Danny says. "And the next day, and the next day, and the next day." He punctuates each day with peppered kisses down Isaac's long, graceful neck, and when he finds that point over his pulse, the one that makes Isaac whine low in his throat, turnabout's fair play.

Isaac must not mind that, either, because he waits until Danny's satisfied with his work to pull him back up to eye level. "And remind me to make it up to you," he says, voice husky and deep in Danny's ears, and then he claims his lips again.

And Danny decides not to tell him he couldn't stay mad to begin with. Because as he's finding out…

Making up is fun.


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner's a riot.

The look on Isaac's face when Tutu calls Danny and Kalea in to help set the table – a tradition: the cook doesn't set the table; and Danny's not sure Isaac is physically capable of _not_ helping – and he sees the food already out on the table is priceless. Danny can practically _hear_ the Hallelujah Chorus, and Tutu's not even done yet.

She just keeps appearing more food out of different places in the kitchen, and each time, Isaac's eyes get a little wider. So does Danny's smile, because he's actually really looking forward to this. No-one so far has ever been a match for Tutu's cooking, but Isaac pretty much skipped lunch, and Danny's sure that black hole's got to be feeling pretty empty.

Should be fun.

"Danny, could you bring in a couple extra chairs from the lanai?" Tutu asks. There are only four around the kitchen table, and there are six of them. And somehow, Danny thinks volunteering to sit in Isaac's lap might not be taken with quite the humor it's intended, so he nods.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Isaac about to volunteer to do it, but he flashes him a look like, 'down boy, I got this' and Isaac huffs and tries – and fails – to look annoyed as he goes back to carrying plates to the table. He's barely made it out to the back door, though, out to the lanai, when he catches Isaac watching him with a smile.

Seems Danny's not the only one that can't hold a grudge.

He does take pity on him when he gets back inside with the chairs, passing off one to Isaac so he can put it on the right side of the table. It'll be a bit of a tight fit with six, but it won't be the first time. Tutu just tells everyone to act like they love each other, and no matter how cranky they are from the flight or whatever the heck else, they do, because, well, _they do_. That's the thing about Danny's family. They can be at each others' throats, like, sixty percent of the time, but they _do_ love each other. Tutu's got a knack for making them remember that.

"That should do it," Tutu says as she sits a fruit platter down in the center of the table. With mango, pineapple, kiwi, strawberries, papayas, lychee, and a few ginger flowers for decoration, that's her idea of a center piece. She says vases are too distracting and just get in the way; fruit platters are practical. And it makes Danny smile, seeing the strawberries, because they're a new addition. Tutu makes the platter herself, out of everyone's favorite fruits.

Strawberries are Isaacs.

It's probably a good thing Tutu speaks when she does, because otherwise, Danny might've actually gotten a little bit emotional. And as understanding as Isaac is, it probably would've been hard to explain why he was getting mushy over strawberries.

"Okay, kiddies – someone go fetch the parentals!" His parents were napping, unwinding from a stressful day of transit.

Danny starts to say he will, but then Kalea bounces up and goes sprinting out of the room.

"Someone's eager to help," Tutu says.

"Someone's eager to _eat_," Danny amends. Isaac's still the king of appetites, but Kalea has to be going through some sort of growth spurt, because she seems to be hungry _all the time_. He remembers those days.

And then there are those that still haven't grown out of them. _Cough_Isaac_Cough_.

"And she's not the only one," he adds, looking pointedly at Isaac, who's standing there with his hands in his jean pockets, staring at the food like he's willing it to be in his stomach, like, _now_. At Danny's voice, though, he looks up, and his lips curve up into that crooked smile, and he shrugs unapologetically.

"Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we?" Tutu says, flashing Isaac a wink and slipping past him to hang her apron up on the hanger. It's kind of weird, he thinks, for her not to follow something like that up with a pat on the head or a pinch on the cheek, because that's…that's _Tutu_. But he knows she's doing it on purpose, for Isaac's sake. In their last call before they came up, Danny kind of…he doesn't want to say _warned_, because it wasn't really a warning. There were just some things he didn't really want Tutu bringing up in dinner conversation – Isaac's family, for instance – right off the bat. He didn't mention any specifics, but then, he didn't have to. Tutu's got this weird sort of sixth sense about people. She just knows what to do. She doesn't press to hard, doesn't overstep; she just _knows_.

Danny told Isaac that once, and nearly laughed when Isaac said now he knew where Danny got it from. He tries, and okay, maybe he's pretty good with people, but he's no Tutu.

It was a heck of a compliment, though.

A few minutes later, Danny's parents wander in, and everyone sits down. They've got the dogs put up in Tutu's room so that they can eat in peace, and the dogs know better than to pitch fits – they know by now that they'll get scraps when they're cleaning up, so there's really no reason to bother – so the only noise is the patter of the rain outside, the occasional rumble of thunder, and light, pleasant conversations.

Inevitably, though, the conversation turns to Isaac.

"So, Isaac, tell us about yourself," Tutu says.

Danny groans and rolls his eyes. "And so it begins."

"I'm a grandmother, Danny; it's my job to ask that question. Honestly, it's practically an obligation."

Isaac, to his credit, just chuckles. "It's fine," he says. He's smiling, which Danny thinks is as much for everyone else's benefit as Danny's, but the knee that nudges his under the table is definitely for Danny's sake. _Down boy_, it says, _I got this._

Touché.

"Well, I'm sixteen, going into my Junior year in high school. I'm a first line defender for the lacrosse team, I'm an okay student—"

"Better than okay," Danny interjects, and when Isaac glances over at him, he raises his eyebrows. "What? You are." He worked his lovely ass off the whole last quarter, made all A's in his classes except for a B in chemistry. If that's not better than okay, Danny really doesn't know what is.

Isaac chuckles, but he smiles at him, and under the table, he gives Danny's knee another affectionate nudge.

Meanwhile, across the table, Kalea's making gagging noises, until Leila tells her to stop with a very sagely, "One day, you'll understand."

"What about hobbies?" Tutu asks.

And the interrogation continues.

Isaac finishes chewing the bite of loco moco he'd just taken and takes a drink of water before he answers. "I like the outdoors," he says, and Danny has to cough so he doesn't laugh. He guesses that's a very euphemistic way of putting what he and the other wolves do. "You know…running, hiking, sports." He shrugs and takes another drink of water. "I play a little piano, read. Been helping a friend rebuild his house."

Which, can Danny just say, is better than cable television. Everyone gets together in the morning, all in varying versions of work clothes – Isaac, Scott, Stiles, Derek, and, oddly, Allison all show up in jeans and wifebeaters or t-shirts, whereas Lydia and Peter tend to show up in designer plaid – fixing up the place room by room once the professionals have done the stuff they dare not DIY. Peter spends half the time antagonizing Derek with little "helpful" suggestions that are probably just meant to tick Derek off. The fact that they usually are, in fact, helpful, only really makes them that much better. Meanwhile, Danny, Lydia, Allison, and Stiles spend half _their_ time admiring Derek, Isaac, and Scott at work. Because seriously, wow…just wow.

But he digresses.

Danny takes a drink of water to disguise his literal _gulp_, and tries to focus on the conversation-slash-inquisition going on at the table. To her credit, Tutu's keeping it casual, and she's yet to ask him anything really pressing. Just stuff Isaac doesn't seem to mind answering. He has no doubt she knows exactly what that is, too.

"So, when did you decide you liked our Danny here?"

Or, you know, she could just ask something totally mortifying like that. That works, too.

But for all Danny's dying of embarrassment, Isaac just kind of smiles around another mouthful of rice – his second helping, Danny notices, and he's still going strong – chews, swallows, takes a drink, then answers. "I guess it was around Spring Break that we started getting close," he says. Because nothing brings people together like a supernatural killing spree and the cruel manipulation of Danny's best friend, who his current boyfriend nearly had to kill, and wow, the more Danny thinks about it, the more he realizes he will never _ever_ tell his parents _any_ of this. Not until they're too old to have him committed, at least. "But there wasn't really a lightbulb moment or anything. He was always kind of there, you know?"

And oh, that's new. Danny didn't know that. He just thought it was…recent. He means, Isaac was always kind of in his periphery; he didn't know it was a mutual thing.

Tutu's smiling and nodding, though, like she already knew the answer. Which gives Danny a really weird thought: maybe Tutu's psychic. That would explain the sixth sense thing, and coming from the boy who's currently dating a werewolf, stranger things _have_ happened.

But no, he's pretty sure that's not the case. Tutu's just Tutu. She works in mysterious ways.

"Sometimes, that's just the way things are," she says, nodding. "That's how it was with Danny's grandfather. We grew up together, and one day, we just decided to get married." There's a smile on her face as she says it, warm and fond, and her face doesn't reflect any of the sadness Danny still feels spike in his chest when he thinks about Kuku.

A hand suddenly closes around his on his lap, and Danny glances over just in time to catch Isaac's gaze, just for a second, before he goes back to eating. When Danny starts to do the same, it's Tutu's eyes he catches, and she's got a knowing look to go along with that smile, now. He feels his cheeks heat up, and very pointedly goes back to eating.

Tutu seems to be satisfied with that, because she goes to asking Danny's dad about his work and the latest journal he's working on publishing. The rest of dinner passes like that, with light conversation, some jokes, and a frankly gratuitous amount of teasing from all parties.

When dinner's over, dessert included, Isaac has once again secured his victory in the battle of Man versus Food. Even Tutu seemed impressed after Isaac wolfed down – pun intended – a third helping of loco moco, and still had room for a _very_ generous slice of Tutu's famous chocolate haupia pie. Danny was going to explain to him that it was essentially a chocolate and coconut pie, except a little more like heaven, but then he realized Isaac had already taken a bite, and didn't seem to need any explanation.

"It's good to see a boy with a healthy appetite," Tutu says as they work on cleaning up after dinner. It's just her, Isaac, and Danny; his parents and Kalea are in the living room, getting a head start on their food comas.

Usually, it's just Tutu cleaning on the first night, anyway. She'd chase them out with a spoon if they tried to help; it's the big dinner where everyone gets Shanghai'd into service. But as soon as everyone started getting up, Isaac started stacking plates to carry to the sink, and Tutu didn't say anything, just flashed Danny another one of those knowing looks and a nod. Clearly, Tutu approves. And Danny is incredibly relieved about that. "Kids today are always starving themselves."

Isaac comes up to her at the sink, balancing dishes on his arms like a pro. "Can't let food this good go to waste," he tells her as he sits them all down on the counter and goes back to get some more. Danny passes him on the way, and if his hands weren't full with casserole dishes and plates, he would totally fist bump him. He's definitely racking up the brownie points, and the best thing is, he's not even _trying_ to get the brownie points; he means every compliment he gives, and all the stuff he's doing is stuff he does normally. Which is good, because if he was just sucking up, Danny has no doubt Tutu would smell it from a mile away.

As it is, she just grins one of her warm grins and glances over at Danny when he gets to the sink. "Ooh, I like this one, Danny," she says. "We might just have to keep him around."

"That's the plan." And as he's walking back over to the table, he catches Isaac grinning at him like a fool.

He grins right back, until a scratching at the door into Tutu's bedroom –it is indeed attached to the kitchen – kind of ruins the moment. Isaac's head snaps around at the sound of soft whines from behind the door.

"Oh, hush, Nani," Tutu chides, but then she sighs. "Would you boys mind handling this so I can take the dogs out?" At Isaac's confused look, she explains. "Poor old girl won't go out in the rain; I have to take her out with an umbrella before she'll leave the lanai."

And this time, when Isaac goes to volunteer, Danny doesn't stop him, because he was just about to do the same thing.

"I can take her out," he says.

Tutu cocks an eyebrow, one sudsy hand going to her hip. "You're just determined to be put to work, aren't you?" At which Isaac simply shrugs, earning himself a sigh from Tutu that doesn't sound nearly as exasperated as Danny thinks she's shooting for. "Alright," she says. "Just try to keep her over by the tree line. I like being able to walk out to the beach without going through a mine field, if you know what I mean."

Isaac must, because he chuckles and nods. "Yes, ma'am." And then he walks over to the door and lets the dogs out. Danny watches him take a knee as Nani and Kekipu come tearing out, and instantly, he's everybody's best friend. Isaac smiles, but—maybe it's just Danny's imagination, but he could swear he sees him frown, just for a second, before he pats Nani on her fawn-colored head and pushes himself to his feet. "Come on," he tells them, and they both trot behind him dutifully.

"Umbrella's outside by the door," Tutu calls after him as he slips outside, and a few seconds later, Isaac's opening up the umbrella and walking out barefoot in the yard.

Kekipu wanders out a bit, but Nani stays right with him, under the umbrella, and Danny thinks he might be walking a little slower, and he wonders if Isaac somehow knows about her.

"He's a sweetheart, that boyfriend of yours."

Danny starts at Tutu's voice, tearing his eyes away from the window to look at his grandmother. She's watching Isaac out the window over the sink, and the smile on her face looks kind of…sad.

He swallows thickly and nods, turning back to look at the window. He doesn't know how he knows it, but he knows Isaac's not listening. Respecting Danny's privacy. "Yeah, he is."

"Somebody hurt him along the line," Tutu goes on, voice soft, tone somber. The sound of rain and the soft clink of dishes fill the heavy silence. "Somebody hurt him badly."

For the second time that night, Danny feels his eyes start to burn. Just thinking about it, about everything Isaac's dad did to him, about everything he's been through, everything he's _still_ going through, with the wolves, it makes him so angry and so sad and so sick all at the same time.

And then he looks out at him, spending extra time in the pouring rain with a dog because she's sick and old and hates the rain, or smiling like a big goofball when Kekipu comes up and plants his two wet, dirty feet on the front of his shirt, and he's just so freaking _good_.

"You've got it bad for him, don't you, kiddo?" It's not really a question; Tutu already knows.

Danny nods anyway. "I love him." He doesn't really mean to say it; it just kind of slips out. He hasn't said that to anyone but Isaac, but it just…it _feels right_ to say it. And he thinks, if anyone's going to understand it, that it's not just some stupid teenage crush, it'd be Tutu. She married his grandfather when she was sixteen. She _knows_.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Tutu's nodding, too. "And does he love you, too?"

"Yes." And it's kind of amazing how automatic that is. It's not defensive, but…instinctive. He may not know people like Tutu does, but he knows _Isaac_. He knows the way he looks at him, like he's the whole world, like there's nothing else that matters. He knows the way he closes his eyes after a nightmare, when he's so upset he's shaking, and lays his head on Danny's chest, because the sound of his heart makes him feel okay. He knows the way Isaac would do anything he asked, would do anything to protect him. He knows because he, Danny, would do the same damn thing in an instant.

He feels the first tear streak down his cheek, and raises his hand to wipe it away, blinking furiously. And then Tutu's there, turning him around and pulling him into a hug, and he doesn't even know _why_ he's crying, because this is supposed to be a _happy_ thing. People go their whole lives without feeling like this. And he is. _Happy_. He is.

It's just….

"I can't lose him," he chokes out against her shoulder. And it's that thought that makes his heart feel like it's tearing apart. Because…_God_, he still has nightmares sometimes. That night, Isaac hurt, all the blood….he can still see it sometimes. And all the nights he texts Danny, telling him to stay inside, that it's not safe outside, and Danny has to sit there knowing that Isaac's out there. And when he comes back, covered in still-healing cuts, and Danny knows that just a few inches higher, a little bit deeper, and he wouldn't have come back at all.

"Oh, honey," Tutu whispers gently, her hands smoothing through his hair, and it's like he's six again, crying into that horrible apron over some six-year-old's idea of a crisis. Only, that was different. _Everything_ was different, before. Before Isaac, before werewolves, before the spectrum opened up and Danny saw lights he never knew existed and shadows he wishes never did.

It takes him a good minute to pull himself together, and even then, it feels frail. He leans back, wiping his eyes, and Tutu holds him at arm's length, a sympathetic, but _reassuring_ smile on her face that somehow makes Danny remember how to breathe again. It doesn't fix things, but…it helps a little bit.

"Danny, honey, that boy literally crossed an ocean for you," she says. "And take it from someone that knows what it looks like: he loves you." And then her smile warmed, and she took a hand from his shoulder to brush affectionately over his cheek. "And something tells me he's not going anywhere."

He doesn't know what it is, but coming from Tutu, it's somehow more believable. It's somehow more…_real_. Real enough, at least, and he sniffs a little and wipes his eyes again for good measure. Not that he thinks it'll do much good – Isaac'll be able to tell, anyway – but it's the principle thing.

"I'm gonna go drag my boyfriend in before he drowns," he says, and he's relieved when his voice comes out sounding close to steady.

"That's my boy."

And with one last check of his reflection in the glass pane, Danny slips outside.

Isaac's sitting out on the lanai, legs stretched out in front of him with Kekipu stretched out along them, and Nani laying her head across his lap. He has a hand on each of them, and as Danny gets closer, he can see the sad look on his face. _God_, he thinks, between the pair of them, they might out-gloom the storm.

It's not until he's sitting down beside and a little bit behind him, close enough to touch, but far enough not to disturb Nani, that he sees the black veins.

"Isaac?"

Isaac doesn't look at him. "She's dying," he says. His voice almost sounds even, but Danny can hear it: that little bit of an edge, the sadness.

He was right: Isaac did know.

He nods, even though he knows Isaac can't see it. "Osteosarcoma."

Isaac's lip twitches, but it's not a smile, nor is it a frown. It's just kind of…ironic. "It has a very distinct scent."

Which would be amazing, that Isaac can _smell_ cancer, because Danny didn't know that, but honestly, he's a little more concerned with the black veins creeping up the back of Isaac's hand, up his wrist, disappearing under his sleeve.

But then, before Danny can ask about them, they recede, creeping up his arm, and he sees Isaac's arm tense for a second like the muscle cramped, but then his hand relaxes back against Nani's side.

For some reason, Danny feels like he just witnessed something important. He swallows compulsively, and then, "What was that?"

Isaac still doesn't look at him. "I took some of her pain away."

"You…took her pain away?"

Isaac nods slowly. "Only a little."

"Sometimes a little can go a long way," Danny finds himself saying, and there's that twitch again, like Danny's just said something ironic, but he can't for the life of him figure out why that would be. And it occurs to him that he should be a little bit more shocked about all this, but honestly…he doesn't care as much anymore about the things he can do; he's more amazed with what he does with them. "God," he sighs, more to himself than anything, "I really do have it bad."

"If it helps," Isaac starts, and finally, he turns and looks at him, "that makes two of us."

A second passes, but then they both smile, and suddenly all the tension in Danny's chest releases, and he really _can_ breathe again.

He shifts, slipping an arm around Isaac's middle in a half-hug and resting his chin on his shoulder. In turn, Isaac takes his hand from Kekipu's head and reaches across to lace his fingers with Danny's, squeezing them briefly. They sit like that for a long moment, just…_breathing_.

But then Isaac breaks the comfortable silence. "I lied earlier," he says.

Danny arches an eyebrow, once again knowing Isaac can't see it and doing it anyway. "About?"

"About my light bulb moment."

"Ah."

Isaac nods. "Yeah. I…I never told you this, but there was this one time back in the eighth grade, towards the end of the year. It was one month to the day from the day they...from the day they came to my house and said Camden had been killed in action." Isaac's voice hitched a little over the end, and Danny's breath hitched right there with it. He gave Isaac's hand a squeeze, and Isaac took a breath. "And I was just sitting there, all alone at the table, no lunch, just a Spider-Man comic, and this kid just _appears_ next to me and starts talking about comic books. I'd never talked to him before, outside of class. I had no idea why he did it, but he just—he just sits down and he starts talking, and he's got this wad of tinfoil in his hands like it's a Christmas present."

And suddenly, it doesn't matter that Isaac's never told him, because Danny knows this story.

"Inside, there were these…I didn't even know _what_ they were called, and he just offers me one. It…it was the first kind thing anyone had done for me since my brother died…and I wanted to tell him that. But I didn't get a chance."

Danny remembers. He remembers it all, now, so clearly. That kid sitting at the table, too-big sweater and too-wild hair, hiding a Spider-Man comic in a textbook. The kid that looked like a kicked puppy. The kid that looked like he needed a friend. He remembers the way he'd disappeared after that phone call, not just from the table, but from Danny's whole world. And suddenly, he feels a surge of regret, because he wonders if maybe he'd looked a little harder, held on a little tighter, if maybe things would've been different for Is—

Isaac bounces his shoulder, and Danny's chin with it. "Hey," he says, "this is a happy story. Stop sulking." And once he seems satisfied that Danny's back on track, he continues. "And then, there was that day in the cafeteria. We'd never really talked, even after I started hanging out with Scott and them. But you just...sat down next to me, and you had this wad of tinfoil. _Andagi_. I remember the name now." His shoulders bob lightly around a chuckle, and Danny can feel it echo warmly in his own chest until Isaac pulls away.

For a second, Danny's confused, but then he realizes Isaac's just turning to look at him, and he can't really mind. Not with the way Isaac's looking at him, because it's _that_ look. The one where Danny's the only thing that exists. The only thing that matters.

"_That_ was the moment I fell in love with you."


	8. Chapter 8

The sun wakes them up the next morning, streaming in through the window. Between it and the covers he's curled up under – and the Isaac he's curled up against – he's warm and comfortable, and it takes him a good five minutes to work up the chutzpah to peel his eyes open.

He's rewarded with the sight of a pair of blue eyes, gleaming in the sunlight, looking down at him with this look that makes Danny feel warm in a way that has nothing to do with the blankets.

Isaac's propped up on his elbow, leaning over Danny. He's wearing a small, content sort of smile that makes his eyes shine and makes Danny _really_ want to kiss him.

So, he does. Perks of being the boyfriend, he guesses. He gets dibs. And they're past the 'ew, morning breath' stage of this relationship.

Way past it, apparently, if the way Isaac responds to the kiss is anything to go on. He rolls over, bracing his hand on Danny's other side and kissing back with enough enthusiasm to effectively wake Danny's brain up.

And, well, _other_ parts.

It feels like a crime, breaking the kiss and holding Isaac back with a smile when he tries to chase him. To his credit, Isaac doesn't look insulted; he just kind of arches an eyebrow, eyes still shining, this time with amusement. Of course, Danny guesses he's got the added benefit of knowing Danny's not backing out because he's not _interested_ – damn those werewolf senses…the thin pajama pants probably don't hide that much, either – so he's a little more willing to hear the real reason.

"It's almost nine," Danny says lamely. In his defense, what little smarts he has this early in the morning on vacation were just thoroughly kissed out of him by frankly the most beautiful guy Danny's ever seen. And while it's _amazing_ to wake up to, it does make waking up _difficult_. Especially when all Danny wants to do is stay there with him, in that bed, for the rest of forever.

Isaac just arches his eyebrow higher. Clearly, restating the time is _not_ a good enough explanation for no wake-up sex.

Danny's starting to agree.

But, no, he _has _a reason. It's just getting his wits together enough to articulate it that's the trick. "Family's coming over today." There, that's better, right? That makes more sense. "They usually get here around ten. And believe me, you don't _want_ to be sleeping when my cousins get here."

"I think I could handle them."

"You could," Danny allows, because, well, he's _Isaac_. "But it might be kind of hard to explain to my parents how my cousin accidentally flew out the window."

"I'd aim for the ocean," Isaac says, completely straight-faced

"Of course." Danny nods solemnly. "I mean, that's really the only _polite_ way to go about throwing someone out a window."

"Exactly."

Danny nods.

Isaac nods.

And then they both crack into big grins, and without warning, Isaac's leaning in to steal another kiss. Danny's ready this time, though, reaching behind his head to grab a pillow. He knows he only manages to thwap Isaac in the head with it because Isaac _lets_ him, but there's still a certain level of satisfaction that comes with fending off a werewolf with a feather pillow.

When he goes for the double-tap, though, Isaac snatches it out of his hand, and Danny squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation of a payback blow, but instead, Isaac rolls over onto his back, pulling Danny with him, until he's more or less laying on him, chest to chest, and Isaac's got his arms wrapped around him in a way that suggests to Danny that he's going to have a _very_ hard time getting out.

"Isaac," Danny groans, trying halfheartedly to push himself up. Maybe a little less than half, especially when Isaac nuzzles his nose against Danny's neck, humming contentedly and pretty much completely ignoring all Danny's attempts to escape his hold. "You're kind of a child sometimes, you know that?" Danny says, looking Isaac dead in the eye. It would probably have a lot more bite if he hadn't started laughing, though. "Come on, I need a shower."

At that, Isaac leans back, eyes flashing with interest.

Danny feigns surprise. "Oh, did I just say the magic word?"

Instead of answering him, though, Isaac just rolls out of bed, taking Danny with him. And before Danny can protest – or, you know, fall flat on his face on the floor at the unexpected gravity surge – he's got Danny turned around, using those few extra inches of height to lift Danny up by the waist and literally _carry_ him towards the door.

"Hey," Danny yelps. "Put me down." But Isaac makes no move to do it, and they're dangerously close to the door. "Isaac, someone's gonna see us," he whines.

"Not if you be quiet," Isaac growls against his neck. It should probably be scary, but Danny can practically _hear_ the grin, the mischievous spark in his eyes, and instead, he's just _incredibly_ turned on.

True to Isaac's word, they make it to the bathroom without detection. They eventually make it downstairs, too.

Albeit much, much later.

"I feel like I smell like you," Danny mutters as they jog down the stairs from the loft.

"You do." And Isaac looks entirely too pleased about that. "Don't worry, they won't notice."

Honestly, Danny doesn't mind it so much. He even actually kind of likes the idea, in that deep down, 'probably shouldn't tell decent company' kind of way. He did tell Isaac that once – he's better than decent company, and he's kind of the exception to every rule Danny has anyway – and he'd proceeded to jump his bones and screw him into the mattress.

_That_, he _really_ didn't mind.

And anyway, Isaac's right: they won't notice. Being around the wolf pack was one thing; they'd know before he even walked in the room, which took some getting used to. But it was actually Isaac that took most of the flak for that, so it was actually more funny than anything. Danny's family were regular old, Hawaii-grown human being: no super sniffers, no super hearing. He was just giving Isaac a hard time.

Isaac must've known, because he bumped Danny with his elbow as they padded their way into the living room. They'd gotten dressed, Danny in board shorts and his bright yellow tank from his great uncle's surf shop, and Isaac in board shorts – Isaac said he had some; Danny didn't believe it until he saw it – and a long-sleeve black UnderArmour shirt that Danny recognizes from winter lacrosse practices.

"They're going to think you don't have forearms or something. Maybe a really embarrassing tattoo," Danny teased when they were getting dressed, and Isaac had made a face that Danny _thought _was supposed to be irritated, but was a little too puppy for that, and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows.

Turns out, it actually isn't his arms that were the mystery.

"Oh, look at that," Tutu says as they make it into the kitchen. She's got a stack of French toast she's adding the last couple slices to, and there's a plate of Portuguese sausage on the counter. "He has legs."

Isaac takes it well, as it was meant, and smiles.

Danny notices, though, that as soon as she turns back to the stove, he pulls them down a little. Which would be funny, only Danny knows there's a reason he doesn't wear shorts really outside of lacrosse. He's got pretty bad scars on his knees – he's got pretty bad scars all over, but there are patches the size of half dollars on his knees that are just scar tissue – and there are some to match on his elbows, the backs of his heels, and the heels of his hands.

He guesses that's what happens when someone's dragged across concrete. When someone beats against the sides of a steel freezer box until they bleed.

Danny shoves the thoughts back. Nope, he's reached his breakdown quota for this vacation; it's good times from here out. And he's resolved to make it that way for Isaac, too, so he sidles up right next to him and slips an arm around his waist. "Really _nice_ legs," he says, and flashes Isaac a wink and a chaste kiss that has him smiling for real.

Mission: accomplished.

Tutu smiles, too, and there's a sizzle as she flips the French toast on the griddle. "You two are precious," she says, shaking her head, and then, "Speaking of, you know I'm not exactly hard up, right?"

"Yes?" Danny can tell from the look on her face that she's going somewhere with this.

Tutu just nods, though. "So you know there's enough hot water for you two to take _separate_ showers."

It takes it a second, but it apparently clicks with Isaac the same time it does with Danny, because they both look at each other, and promptly hang their heads, if only to hide the fact that they're holding back laughs. Because Tutu's still smiling like she's getting a huge kick out of this, and seriously, getting caught sneaking around on vacation?

That's…weirdly normal teenage behavior. They don't get these moments very often. They like to savor them, embarrassing as they are.

"I told you," Danny accuses when he trusts himself to speak without snorting.

Isaac just shrugs. "I forgot Tutu has superpowers," he says, faux-defensively, then turns to Tutu. "I'm sorry. I forgot you have superpowers." There's an earnest apology in there somewhere, too; Isaac's kind of playing it safe.

Cute _and_ smart. It's totally _unnecessary_, but it's still smart.

"I'll let this one slide," Tutu tells them with a magnanimous nod that would make Mother Theresa proud. "But remember: Tutu sees all. Tutu is omniscient. Tutu is omnipotent."

"Tutu is speaking about herself in the third person," Danny adds.

Tutu waves her spatula dismissively. "Tutu is old; Tutu is allowed her eccentricities." She turns back around to the griddle and takes the last of the French toast off the heat, stacking it on the plate. "Also, Tutu is finished with breakfast, so Danny, go wake the masses. Isaac, if you'd start taking all this out to the lanai. The table's already set, it just needs the food. And watch the dogs."

It occurs to Danny then that they went to bed with Kekipu in the room, and that he wasn't there when they woke up. Considering his parents and sister are all still sleeping, he's assuming that means Tutu let them out.

Which means she totally saw their big spoon, little spoon routine.

God, he really does feel like a regular old teenager.

Isaac must've figured out the same thing, because when Danny catches his eyes, they're laughing silently…and Danny really doesn't mind. Because…it's not that he hates the crazy stuff. The wolves and the magic and all the weirdness that's become his life, lately.

It's just nice to get away from it sometimes. That was what this was all about, after all: getting away from the weirdness for a little while. And okay, maybe this is just a different _kind_ of weirdness, but that works. He's happy, and Isaac's happy – especially when Tutu tells him she won't ask questions if some of the food didn't make it to the table – and the storm's passed, and, well…

It's just a really beautiful day.


	9. Chapter 9

They're just finishing up cleaning up after breakfast when the dogs start losing their minds.

"Who needs doorbells?" Tutu says, rolling her eyes. "Someone go let them in before the dogs break the door down."

This time, Isaac doesn't volunteer. He's tensed back up again, and Danny knows the look on his face. New people means new threats to the wolf, and he's torn between the instincts that put him on guard and the knowledge that he shouldn't be, that they're just Danny's family.

Everyone else is heading to the living room, but as Danny passes him, he slips his arms through Isaac's. "Come on," he says. "Let's go meet the Fockers."

That gets a little bit of a snort out of Isaac, which Danny thinks is about as good as he's going to get right now. He'll take it. Gratefully.

Tutu passes them, and Danny distinctly sees her eyes go down to his arm through Isaac's, and there's a little flash of sympathy before it's covered up, and she says, "Isaac, Danny, could you keep the dogs back?"

_That_, Isaac does jump on. As Danny whistles and calls them, he smacks his hands on his thighs. And apparently, Isaac must be way more interesting than the people behind the door – _le gasp_ – because with a pair of matching conflicted glances, they turn tail and come trotting back to where Isaac and Danny are standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Wonder of wonders," Tutu muses, glancing back at them.

Leila just smiles. "Isaac's our resident dog whisperer," she says, and Danny's too busy appreciating the momentary distraction to appreciate the irony. Isaac's got his hands full with Kekipu, who's so excited his whole butt's shaking, and while Danny's got his hand on Nani's collar, Isaac's just got his hand resting on the back of Kekipu's neck. That's apparently enough, though, because instead of launching himself forward when the door opens, he just thumps his short little tail against the floor and whines, eyes darting between Isaac and the door.

The funny thing is, Danny's seen Derek pull a similar move with Isaac. Seems the shoe's on the other foot. He just wishes Isaac wasn't on edge so he could enjoy it properly. Alpha for a day.

But before Danny can really think too much on it, there are people coming in. His aunt Malia's first, then little Wile. At nine, he's the youngest of the Kameāloha brood, and pretty much just a massive ball of energy. As soon as he gets through the door, he tugs his hand loose of his mom's and comes running in at full speed to barrel into Tutu's waist with all the reckless abandon of youth. It doesn't matter that they live on the island and see her at least once a week; Danny figures he's probably excited every time he sees his parents in the morning, the silly little goof.

Lui walks in next. He's the same age as Kalea, where he's trying to be cool but still not really sure what that entails. However, where Kalea chose the path of sarcasm and sass – seriously, he couldn't be more proud – Lui decided on the 'too good for all your shit' OS, which while a functional model for most, didn't really work with the fact that he was the quintessential adorable chubby twelve-year-old.

His uncle Kona was the third through the door. At six-foot-holy-shit – as opposed to his own dad's meager six-foot-oh-my-God – he was the spitting image of what Danny imagined Kuku must've looked like when he was in his forties, all broad-shouldered and barrel-chested. He had a little bit of a paunch going, but Danny figured if he ate like this as much as they did, he'd probably get a belly too.

Kai and Meka come through at about the same time, both decked out in swim trunks and tanks. At sixteen, Meka's shaping up to be a real chip off the old block, all big muscles and hard features, and even though he's shorter than Danny by a couple inches, he's probably got about fifty pounds on him.

Kai, on the other hand, is a little more like Danny's build. He's eighteen, and the tallest out of all of them – except, Danny thinks, maybe Isaac – and in the eight months it's been since he turned eighteen, he's gotten a pretty good spread of tattoos on his arms and shoulders.

With everybody inside and the door closed, Danny nods to Isaac saying he can let Kekipu go, and _lord_, does Kekipu go. He's like a freaking greyhound at the races, tearing off towards the newcomers like they're made of bacon and peanut butter.

"And cue hug sequence," Danny mutters under his breath, and he thinks Isaac must hear him – of course he does; he's Isaac – because his lip twitches into the faint echo of a smile.

That's all he gets to see, though, before he's pulled into the massive exchange of hugs and _honi_ and handshakes and shoulderbumps and every other imaginable form of greeting short of a freaking herald.

Isaac gets his, too. They take turns introducing him, just depending on what feels right. Mostly, Isaac introduces himself to Danny's cousins, and Danny introduces him to his aunt and uncle.

Briefly, as everyone breaks apart, he considers doing a roll call replay for Isaac, just to make sure he's got the names. But then he remembers who he's talking to. Isaac can remember the entire procedure of a chemistry lab and still have room on that memory card of his for an entire Shakespeare sonnet.

True story.

Instead, he just waits until everybody's starting to settle down, grabbing seats in the living room on the couch, chairs, floor – anywhere that's a flat, sittable surface – to hook a hand around his arm and pull him towards the loft stairs where he usually sits for the usual pre-lunch powwow.

Kekipu , of course, joins them immediately, sitting down with a huff and leaning back against Isaac's shin, bumping his hand with his nose. And Isaac, being the adorable puppy pushover he is, obliges, petting him absently while he leans into Danny.

"What now?" he whispers quietly. His aunt Malia's just asking about how their flight was, so they're not really in danger of missing anything.

"We usually catch up for a few minutes, then the grown-ups go out for lunch and we stay here and chill and keep the little ones from drowning in the ocean," Danny answers quietly and just a little boredly. He guesses there are worse things than babysitting on the beach.

There are definitely better ones, though.

Not that Isaac seems to care. "Sounds good to me," he says, shrugging his shoulders against Danny's.

Danny responds in kind by bumping his shoulders into him. "_Everything_ sounds good to you."

"What can I say? I'm agreeable."

"Yes," Danny agrees. "Yes, you are."

Isaac glances over at him as the conversation shifts to work for the adults. All the kids in the room seem to have their own little side conversations going. Kai and Meka are sitting over by the wall to Tutu's room, talking to each other, and Kalea and Lui are sitting under the loft. Wile doesn't have anybody, but that doesn't stop him from expounding the virtues of sharks, his apparent animal of the month. So, it's all good.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Isaac mutters as Danny looks around. He doesn't sound genuinely put out or anything, but just in case, Danny makes sure to clear the air.

"It's not a bad thing," he says. "I just want to make sure you're doing what you want to do, not just going along for the ride."

Isaac's lip curls up, and his shoulders bob in a silent chuckle that has Danny just about to ask what's funny when Isaac snakes his free hand – the one Kekipu hasn't claimed as his personal back-scratcher – around Danny's waist.

"I'm doing what I want to do," he says. "Just spending time with you."

And with any hope of a witty comeback effectively blown out of his head by his overwhelmingly charming, if irredeemably cheesy boyfriend, the best Danny can come up with is a goofy smile and, "Hey, that rhymed."

Not one of his prouder moments.

But, hey, because Isaac is the perfect boyfriend and seems to have a frankly inexplicable fondness for Danny's perpetual lameness, he just curls his arm tighter around Danny's middle, shaking his head softly with another round of silent chuckles.

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny catches Kai and Meka staring at them, looking...less-than-moved by the display. They're not quite sneering, but he can practically _feel_ the disapproval rolling off them in waves.

Super.

He can already tell it's going to be a fun afternoon. Not that he hates his cousins or anything; it's just a proven fact that they can be monumental assholes sometimes. They accepted he was gay without to much trouble, but they still give him grief about it from time to time, jokingly. The problem being, the both of them – but Kai especially – seem to have a little trouble seeing lines until they've crossed them and run about a hundred miles on the other side.

Long story short, his cousins have what he would classify as an exceptional ability to put their feet in their mouths, most of the time completely unintentionally. Even unknowingly. Accidental assholes, he calls them.

He got used to it a long time ago. After all, he only pretty much grew up with them. They were kind of like Jackson: good hearts, just a lot of crap in the way of seeing them.

He's just hoping they won't make complete jackasses of themselves with Isaac here. Although, if the snickers and poorly-shielded whispers are anything to go by, he's hoping against hope. Oh well. He'll deal with them, if he needs to. Kai might be older, but Danny's the high face on the totem pole. Benefit of being a people person, he guesses. Hawaii might not be his home, but it is his _home_, or at least a part of it – home is, after all, where the heart is, and Danny's got his heart rooted pretty solidly in a couple of places – and, well, he moves and shakes.

"So." Isaac's voice draws Danny's attention away from his cousins. Isaac's leaning in close again, voice lowered and eyes flicking briefly over to Kai and Meka before falling back to Danny. "Am I gonna like those guys?" he asks. "Or am I gonna hate them?"

"You know, sixteen years, and I think I'm still trying to figure that out for myself." The sad thing is, Danny's only half joking. If that.

Isaac's eyebrows tick up towards his hairline. "Ah." He nodded. "Okay, then."

"Yeah," Danny says. "Still thinking it sounds good?"

"That depends."

Now, it's Danny's turn to raise an eyebrow. "On what?"

"You still gonna be there?" Isaac asks.

"Yes?" Danny isn't sure why that would've changed. Yes, he's going to leave Isaac alone with his cousins and kid sister and go out with the adults to continue discussing…what is it, now? Construction on the H3 Honolulu? _Riveting_.

Pass.

Isaac just smiles, though. "Then yeah, it still sounds good."

And despite the small knot of unease in the pit of Danny's stomach, he has to smile at that. Isaac really is too sweet. Cheesy, but so sweet. And smart. And sexy. And—

And he's getting off subject.

Isaac has that effect on him, though. He has this ability to get him out of his head when he needs it, to ground him. To remind him to slow down, to breathe.

Now he just has to hope Isaac's awesome will be a match for his cousins' combined _asshole_.


	10. Chapter 10

The adults head off to lunch soon after, and it's just Isaac, Danny, Malea, and their cousins. They've barely been alone for five minutes before Kai comes out of the kitchen, a mouthful of leftover cut fruit Danny _knows_ he got out of the fridge with his bare fingers. Heathen.

Meka's right behind him, as per usual. Seriously, Danny's not sure if it's just some sort of hero complex or something, but Meka's never more than a few steps behind his brother. And it's always _behind_. Because God forbid someone other than Kai take the lead.

He really doesn't hate hit cousins; he feels like he needs to clarify that sometimes. He doesn't hate them. He actually loves them. They just have the amazing ability to annoy the living hell out of him without even trying.

"Storm brought in some kickass waves," he says. "Whaddya say we go catch a few?" Which Danny knows is Kai for 'we're going out surfing, and if you don't come, we're gonna give you crap for it for the rest of the week.'

Normally, Danny doesn't mind. He likes surfing, and even though there are beaches in California, there's nothing quite like hitting the waves of Hawaii after a storm's churned everything up.

There's just one problem, though, and Danny's about to bring it up—

But Meka beats him to the punch.

"Can you even surf, haole?" he asks. It's not so much a genuine question as a challenge, though, and Danny has half a mind to warn him about that – Isaac might be the sweetest guy Danny's ever met, but it also doesn't pay to challenge him. He _does_ have that asshole side of him that he whips out and dusts off from time to time.

He stops himself, though, this time. For two reasons. For one, he thinks it's probably a good thing Isaac go ahead and put his foot down, get it out of the way. And if he can put Meka in his place in the process, well then that's just two birds with one gloriously quick-witted werewolf stone.

For two, and somewhat related to the subject of werewolves and stones, as much as Danny loves sweet Isaac, asshole Isaac is also _definitely_ a turn-on. And he's not _really_ an asshole. He just stands up for himself. He's confident. He always is, but it's like there's sort of this shift from that unspoken sort of confidence to the 'piss me off, I dare you' confidence. He seems to stand a little taller, still in that relaxed semi-slouch of his, but there's something a little more…_predatory_ about it. One side of his lips curls up into a smirk, showing off _just_ enough teeth, and his eyes flash and—

_God_, it shouldn't be as hot as it is.

"What'd you call me?" Isaac asks, and just like Meka, it's not so much a question as a challenge. There's a genuine curiosity there, but it's a small part of a larger, more intimidating whole.

It's not until that moment that Danny understands what the confusion is all about. He's just so used to hearing 'haole' that he doesn't even register how it sounds anymore. Except now he does, and he's torn between laughing and cringing. Because, as it turns out, 'haole' sounds an awful lot like 'howlie,' and he wonders vaguely if Isaac things his cousin just made some sort of anti-werewolf slur. Which would explain the little bit of a strain he sees in his shoulders. The tension.

Danny thinks that's a good time to step in.

"Haole," he says, careful to enunciate so that it doesn't quite sound _like that_. "It means—"

"It means white boy," Kai interrupts.

Danny shoots him a look, but sighs. He knows by now there's really no sense getting mad at them. It's not their fault; they are who they are – plural, because Danny can't remember a time he ever saw the two apart.

Who they are just happens to be obnoxious asses sometimes.

"You remember when I was telling you about 'ha,' right?" Danny says, aiming for a slightly less offensive explanation. Isaac nods, and Danny's relieved to see at least a little bit of the tension ebbing from his shoulders. "Well, 'ole' means without. It's because, when white people first came to the island, they greeted with handshakes instead of the _honi_, so they didn't exchange _ha_. Ergo, _ha-ole_. Without _ha._"

"Huh." There's a little flash of Isaac's usual sweetness – his badass is reserved for Danny's cousins, apparently, which is good – as he does that things with his lips where he pulls the corners down.

"We done with this little island history lesson?" Kai cuts in, and Isaac doesn't turn back towards him, but Danny knows he's got his attention. "'Cause I kinda wanna get out before the waves go down." He raises his eyebrow at Isaac. "That is if your boyfriend here can surf."

And _that_ is what Danny was _trying_ to ask Isaac before his cousins cut in. Because he actually doesn't know. It occurs to him now that he probably should've asked before all this, but in the chaos of trying to get everything worked out, it just never crossed his mind.

There's an out on his lips, a way for Isaac to back down and not look bad in front of Danny's cousins – Danny doesn't really care if he can't surf, but he doesn't want Isaac's pride to take a hit – but this time, of all people in the room, it's _Isaac_ that interrupts him.

"I think I can figure it out," he says, voice steady and casual, and somehow, Danny gets the feeling he more than thinks it. And as his cousins grin and head out to the boathouse to get some boards, Danny catches Isaac by the arm.

"You surf?" he says. "I mean, I don't doubt that you can; I just didn't know that you…" he trails off, waving vaguely for Isaac to fill in the blanks himself. Great, he thinks, now he's going all awkward.

But Isaac just grins like he thinks it's cute – of course he does – and leans in to steal a kiss. "I've lived in California almost my whole life, and I like extreme sports," he says. "_Yeah_, Danny. I surf."

"Oh. Okay then." Danny's not going to question it any more than that. If Isaac says he can, then he believes him. Instead, his lips pull up into a smirk of their own, and he quirks his eyebrow. "Let's see you put your money where your mouth is, then." And then he sprints off, knowing full well Isaac can catch him if he wants to.

He doesn't, though. They get out to the boathouse – essentially a cinderblock shack out between the beach and the house, where they keep their boards and their skis and all the stuff that's not actually the _boat_ which they keep at the harbor – where Danny's cousins are already rifling through the boards to pick their favorites. They all have favorites, and then there are a few they keep for visitors. They're all good quality boards, though, so Danny doesn't feel bad about letting Isaac pick one of the leftovers. Hell, some of them are probably better than Danny's.

He smiles as Isaac comes up behind him, slipping an arm around his waist. Any concerns Danny had about Isaac being standoffish around his cousins are gone; if anything, he's _more _touchy. Danny wonders if it's a wolf-territorial thing, but then decides he really doesn't mind. He just wants to enjoy it.

"I beat you," he says.

Isaac gives a one-sided shrug. "Maybe I was just enjoying the view." And he's about to lean in to steal a kiss when the sound of gagging from the boathouse stops them. Danny see's Isaac's lip twitch into something that looks an awful lot like a snarl, and there's a quiet rumble Danny feels against his chest. He knows Isaac's _genuine_ growl enough to know that that's not it; he thinks it's mostly just for his sake. Letting Danny know he's annoyed.

Danny bites back an apology – if only because he knows that's not what Isaac's trying to get out of him so much as a 'I really wanted to kiss you, too' – and shoots his cousins a glare.

"What are you? Ten?" he shoots back, slipping out from Isaac's arm to go grab his board. He assumes Isaac's gonna follow, and he's not disappointed.

Unfortunately, his cousins don't know when to leave well enough alone.

"Damn, Danny," says Meka. "It's bad enough you're bringing dudes home; you gotta bring home a haole." He shakes his head, like he's actually ashamed of him. Danny admits; it would probably hurt.

If he didn't know his cousin was just doing it to be an asshole.

He ignores him, summoning Isaac with a nod towards the board rack. He picks his own out, and watches as Isaac sifts through the others. Part of him wants to suggest which ones are good, but if Isaac surfs, then he's pretty sure he'll know which ones are the best.

He doesn't disappoint. Of course he doesn't. He picks the second best board, and Danny thinks the only reason he doesn't go for the best is because it hasn't been waxed, judging by the way he runs his thumb over the edge and frowns before going to the next board. So far, so good. Now, Danny's starting to worry about making a fool out of _himself._ Which he probably shouldn't. He's got a box full of medals that say he's damn good on a board. He just never had to do those competitions with the guy of his dreams watching in the wings or sharing the waves. That _could_ add a level of difficulty.

But it's one he'll gratefully embrace. He loves having Isaac there, and if the little bit of joy he sees in his eyes when he picks up the board is anything to go by, Isaac's pretty happy about this, too. It makes him wonder, with all the stuff he had to do back when his dad…well, between work and school and everything,

"How long's it been since you got to go surfing?"

There's a flash of sadness as Isaac tucks the board under his arm. "A while," is what he says, and Danny knows better than to press. When it comes to anything involving his father, the things he had to suffer living with him, the things he had to give up, Danny knows better than to press. What he offers is what Danny takes, and he'll wait for when Isaac is ready to say more.

"Well then," he says instead, tucking his own board under his arm and leading him out of the board house. "let's hope you aren't too rusty."

That earns him a chuckle and that crooked smile – not a smirk, and Danny's kind of glad, because as hot as the confident asshole side of Isaac is, it's the quiet, sweet side of him that Danny's really in love with – as they head out of the boathouse and jog back up to the house. "Yeah, let's hope."


End file.
